Yup. I’m doing the challenge again. Because I think it’s also important for me to talk about how I started writing this thing. Yes, superpowers and the story behind them are cool, but I feel like I need to remind myself why I started a blog and why I write the things that I do. So stuff people who want to hear about my friend in Delirium, and how I became a dominatrix for a day. That’s for later. Papa Willis will be first though, because that’s actually important.
So a year ago, I was in a bad place. Every night I would dream of going out to The Lake of Ghosts, and I would die. I think that would’ve been when I started going into Delirium on my own instead of seeing it from someone else’s eyes. I’m really not sure now. I should’ve been writing down what happened in my episodes, but I didn’t. I really regret not writing down my memories now.
So one night, after things got particularly bad, I filled the sink with water, and held my head underneath it. It wasn’t the most creative suicide plan, or the most elegant. But I was willing to go through with it, and I would make myself hold my head underwater until the end.
I changed my mind though. Obviously. Otherwise this wouldn’t be a blog about my adventures in Reality and Delirium. This would have a different name, maybe my real name. And instead of those stories, those mad ridiculous stories, there would be a eulogy of my short wisp of a life, containing all the little things in my Reality. It probably wouldn’t even exist. My parents would’ve announced my death, got the funeral over with, and tried to move on. Would’ve they said it was suicide? Maybe. If it were blindingly obvious.
Either way, the logical side of my brain kicked in, and I thought Why was I doing this?
I had become tired of the nightmares. I didn’t want to die the way I was in my dreams. And I just wanted to be out of pain. It seemed like the only option.
But…if I was going to die because of the visions, right there, with my head in the bathroom sink, that meant the vision wasn’t true.
And I was going to throw my life away over nothing.
So I quickly yanked my head out, coughed out a lung or two, and had a long talk with my friend after. I felt like the most stupid person on the face of the earth, and it would be at least a month before I could stand water again.
I got better though. Well, my depression did. Temporarily anyway. I decided that I was tired of keeping everything cooped up inside me, where it would just linger and mess with my head. But if I spoke out loud about what was happening to me, people would point and say “Hey look! There’s the schizophrenic girl who raves on about an imaginary world!”
So I write about it instead.
I have two styles of writing. And one of them is Ranting. My best example of this would be Bandaids. That one was a bitch to write, I kept crying the whole time. Ranting is essentially me writing about things which have happened and relaying how I feel about it.
The other one is usually used when I’m writing about Delirium, and when I use it, I feel like afterwards it sounds like I’m writing fiction. That bothers me a bit, but for some reason, I prefer writing it that way. This way, I feel like I can remember things from Delirium more clearly. Of course, there’s some things I’d rather forget. But I have to make myself write about the bad things too. Because they’re important too. I need to get them out of my system as well.
Sometimes it’s hard to remember what happens in Delirium. I have days where I can remember everything crystal clear, and others where everything is a blur. That’s probably why I’m behind on explaining what happened with my friend in Delirium. I’m getting there though. Tomorrow, that will be posted. I reckon that the longer I’ve been in Delirium, the longer I can remember things for afterwards. Of course, I remember the key events. I just get a little slow on the details.
Occasionally, it does feel like I’m writing fiction. When I’m remembering it all, I sometimes wonder how I managed to do whatever I had done. Cat Madigan in Delirium can seem like a different person than Cat Madigan in Reality, and I would never have the courage to do in Reality what I do in Delirium.
The killing is one of those things. I get scared about what I do in Delirium, and I contemplate whether or not I could do so in Reality. But it’s more than just being able to take a life. I feel stronger in Delirium. Maybe it’s the superpowers I mentioned yesterday, but I am willing to talk back more. I can speak clearer, act faster. Basically, I feel like I can be more than a useless freak of nature.
I do feel hopeless at times though. No one can control what happens to them, and that goes for me too in Delirium. I wish to god I could change what happened there. Not just to me. I wish that Jhaq didn’t get hurt, I wish that Kaya didn’t have to die, I wish that the world there wasn’t going to ruins. You would think I’d be able to change what happened. But the fact is, I really don’t.
I might be an author when I write on here. But when it comes to Delirium, and the mad, twisted things that happen there, it’s someone else who’s in control of that story.