Path

I can't help but wonder if this is one of the million paths to insanity. I believe that insanity, in need of a better word, comes piece by piece, jigsawing its way into your life and mind. Damn, I just made that up!
Anyway.
I'm addicted to something. And it's not anything good, that's for sure. I'm scarring myself, probably for life (some of 'em aren't going to fade easily, that's for sure), and I don't mind. Sure, people will look at me, hence why I'm looking for 60- or 100-den skin-colored leggings. And I should start doing that cocoanut oil thingie that I've read about... if I start now, maybe some of the worst scars will be more faded by the time I reach 25.
I speak to myself, and I get answers from within my head. Pretty weird, that; I speak out loud, and there's this something putting thoughts into my head, as if I cannot think myself and I need help in order to do that.
Also, it all happens in a very British English. Not Norwegian, which is, like, my mother tongue and all. That's one of the weirder parts of all this.
This.. mess that I can't make any sense of, other than it's just... a mess. It's all in my head. It's all in my head.
So my head has to be pretty big, then, to hold all of that!
It's like... unidentifiable.
I watched Stephen Fry's documentary about his bipolarity, and I can't help but wonder if I'm bipolar as well... it's like a fashion thing. ADD, DDNOS, PTSD, ODC, a possible ED, bipolar disorder... My brain's rather fucked up and it's not all my fault. Well, not entirely, at least. Some I can "blame" on my genes, 'cause my mom has nearly the exact same symptoms as I do. According to someone, these things called disorders (actually, the Norwegian translation is just slightly amusing, I'll get back to that) are only defense mechanisms that my brain has developed to cope with traumas. And... is that a good thing? I mean, sure, it's okay to find coping mechanisms. But ones that are as destructive as these? I can get the dissociative part, that's reasonable, but the PTSD stuff? That's just bringing it all back in these so-called flashbacks and attacks ('cause they really are attacks). It's just... insanity? Hi, so good to see you. Will I be moved from the outpatient group now? That frightens me a little. I didn't realize until earlier this evening that I'm actually an outpatient at the psychiatric part of the university hospital. Dunno where I got it from, though.... Probably just read it somewhere. Must be that. Anywho... I've been daydreaming about going into the mental hospital, for reals, because then I might get actual helps about the things that bother me. Going to my psychiatrist now just annoys me, because whenever we bring up the topic of self-injury, which is... way too often, I think, I'm overwhelmed by this enormous frustration that I just can't put into words. She asks me all these things, and it's like... Sure, people tell me to get help for my SI because it crossed a point a few weeks back, but I keep wondering what kind of help that is. I mean... Yeah, talking about it, but I'm always asked to look for signs of when the urge comes, what triggers it, etc etc. BLAAAAAH because I CAN'T. I just CANNOT DO THAT. And it's annoying. VERY.
But back to the Norwegian translation of the term "disorder." It translates to "lidelse," which again translates to "suffering." Alright, "lidelse" can mean both "disorder" and "suffering" depending on the context, but still... You say that people suffer from a disorder, right? And in Norwegian we say that people suffer from, yeah, a suffering. Makes sense? Mhm. Very much so.

ANYWAY!
Insanity. That's funny.
And self-esteem... and all that. I keep seeing people all around me, so successful and happy, going to festivals and camps and stuff all summer, while I can barely afford going to one festival - because I will be working there instead of paying a fortune for a single-day pass in order to see 30STM and Linkin Park. So I'll be there for free and all that, only have to pay for alcohol, food and transport. And yes, alcohol's the first thing on the list. Ofc. And the rest of the summer? Well, I'll be working. Doing photography. Before a couple of friends from overseas will be visiting. That's like... the highlight of the year. And hopefully I will be able to afford spending money then... I assume I will be starving or something before that time to save money.
And that fact - that even though I have a fairly high "income" and can afford stuff, I still don't have the money that my friends have. They live at home, with their parents, they don't have to worry about whether or not they can afford buying new shoes now, a CD then, or going to a concert; they get things, and they don't seem to have problems getting up in the morning.
I nearly had a panic attack today while I was out walking, and it just came out of nowhere, I think... I got annoyed because of something and had to get home as quickly as possible, because I felt this incredible anxiety just take control over me. It was like... having all my muscles torn apart or something, a terrible feeling, and I just couldn't get rid of it. It made no sense to me, at all, and first of all it annoyed me. Simply because I couldn't control it.
But that's anxiety for ya... you can't control it, can't get rid of it unless you use everything you've got. And when you're rid of it, what happens then? What happens... when you relax?
It all comes crashing down on you. BOOM, like a bomb, a depression bomb that explodes in your head.
Wonderful.
It's just a wonderful feeling and I can't stop wondering if this is a step towards insanity.
It's a path that I'm walking on, and my feet are leading the way.