Testing the fences in The grotesque metamorphosis of a Bi-Polar human into a Tri-polar monster.

So lately, I’ve been testing my own fences for weak spots, like the raptors in Jurassic Park, except twice as frightening.

Every day is a little dance to see how close to “too far” I can go without ever actually going too far.

The plan, is to drink just enough to kill the thoughts and feelings, but not so much that I feel like shit the next day.
It’s a balancing act of food and water, you have to eat just enough, you have to drink just enough…you have to measure all of the beer you drink by the ounce and keep track of it all…

I have today off, so last night I decided to see how far I could take it.
I wanted to get fucked up.
I wanted to hurt today.

I had some gin, some wine, a bunch of beer. I was rightly fucked up by 6:30 PM, and yet I continued to drink until I passed out sometime around midnight.

The worst part is that I woke up today feeling relatively fine.

Why is that so bad?
It means my tolerance is getting high enough that my body is becoming dependent on the poison.
It means that the poison is becoming a part of me.
It’s just the way I live now.

I’m not to the point where I’m getting the shakes or anything, so that’s good.

…

I think I’m going to take it easy today, though. I am just finishing this last glass of wine that was left at the bottom of the bottle, and then I’m going to smoke a bowl, and I think that will be it for my drinking today.

Sometimes it just gets tiring, trying to outrun your own feelings, because you can never stop running or else they’ll catch you, and when they catch you they’ll be angry you ran, so they’ll beat you.

…

I wish my dog liked to cuddle.
It seriously pisses me off sometimes, so I yell at him.
I’m like, “WHY THE FUCK YOU DON’T WANT TO CUDDLE FOR?”
And then he just stares at me…sometimes he’ll kind of cock his head to the side a little bit like he doesn’t understand me, but I know that’s bullshit, so I’m like, “DON’T YOU PRETEND TO NOT UNDERSTAND EVERY GOD DAMN WORD THAT COMES OUT OF MY MOUTH, DOG!”

And then he’ll just kind of walk away.

It’s so fucking rude.

Sometimes I just tackle him and pin him down and force my cuddles upon him, but I feel very Harvey Weinstein when I do that.

Am I a bad person?
Am I a monster?

…

Lately, my friend Brittany is having a really hard time…she feels like she doesn’t have any friends, and a few times she has kind of mentioned it must be because she is a bad friend.

I feel bad because I’ve been blowing her off a lot lately to just sit in my room and drink by myself…but she’s not the only person I’m blowing off…she just asks me to hang out a lot and I’m always feeling like isolating.

I think it’s hurting her feelings…but the thing is, I don’t even think she likes hanging out with me that much, I think I just might be one of the last friends she has that’s still sticking around…and I know why, all she does is talk about her ex and herself…when we hang out it’s non-stop, seriously, it’s all the Brittany show all the time.

Truthfully, I’m kind of sick of hearing about her ex, and I’m sick of my feelings and opinions not really mattering when I voice them to her.

I dunno…maybe she is a shitty friend.

Then again, I probably haven’t been the greatest friend either.

I’ve been thinking a lot about it lately, how so many of my friends are assholes…and it’s because I used to be such a giant asshole…and I’m not an asshole anymore for some reason. I don’t know when or why I started to change, it could have been the week long mushroom trip I went on a few years ago, I have no idea.

Either way, I don’t feel like I’m an asshole anymore, and I don’t feel like I deserve to be treated poorly, and I also feel like I probably deserve to have friends who aren’t assholes.

Yet…I can’t make new friends.

That’s part of the reason I am on OKCupid, I think…just to meet some new people and to get some fresh blood into my life. I need a change of pace and a change of scenery.

…

I want to move to Oregon, but everyone moves to Oregon. I just had another friend head up there…and one of my friends just moved back because…well, that’s a long story, but he really liked it up there.

Where can I go that isn’t a place to move to just because it’s hip? You know what I mean?

It seems like I’m getting to the age where the people I know are finding the places that are right for them…cities that they can really call home.

I hate where I live.

Irvine is a terrible and boring city.

I don’t want to live in LA, though, that’s a terrible and filthy place.
I like Long Beach, but the sheer amount of people up there kind of freaks me out…it gives me a lot of anxiety to be that crowded.

I have no idea what I’m going to do.

…

“Mama…I didn’t mean to make you cry, if I’m not back again this time tomorrow…carry on…because nothing really matters.”

…

I keep thinking about death lately.
In a totally different way.
Ever since my DMT trip…having such a tangible taste of what dying is like…I’m obsessed.
I can’t wrap my mind around the fact that everyone dies, but it’s the one thing we have no frame of reference on because no one ever comes back to tell you what it’s like. Even the near death experiences…it’s not full death, it’s not the real deal, you can’t trust it.

I am kind of just waiting for death anymore.

I think I’m ready for it.

I’m tired of life.

I’m just tired in general.

Sorry I’m such a bummer.

I do love you a lot.

• Dane.