3 days after I posted my SI blog, I've relapsed. C.B.D

Updates & New Shit

Here’s just a smattering of things that I’m currently working on, including a few updates for my Bliss in Ignorance followers.

Be warned that some things will not be available to everyone because they have been posted to a private journal meant only for a specific group of people. However, if interested in reading these works, just drop me a comment here and I will add you to the friends list as soon as possible. (Note: You MUST have a LiveJournal account in order to be added.)

New Stories – All NEW chaptered stories are linked to first chapter

The Art of Subconscious Illusion

Updates – New chapters for existing stories

Ménage: CH 7
Cali, Called Gonzo: CH 4

X+X+X+X+X+X+X+X+X+X+X+X+X+X+X+X+X+X+X

Poems

Substance Abused
Father’s Day Tragedy
Note for Father
Dear Daddy
Papa’s Little Mistake
Guitar Love
From Suicide to Salvation
Fire Starter
The Death of God
Lost Sanity Delusion

ENJOY!

#FoREVer Yours,

Cali B. Diamond

Sweet Addiction No More

Let me start off by saying that March is National Self Injury Awareness month and I would just like to take a little time to share a bit of my personal battle with this addiction with you.

It’s no big secret that I’m a self-injury addict. I tell anyone who will listen, plus the scars on my arms and legs are a dead giveaway. Ever since I discovered at the tender age of fourteen that the simple act of running a razorblade across my skin would bring me a kind of relief and bliss not attainable by most drugs, it has been my go-to solution for when I’m feeling less than content about my life.

For nearly nine years, I have defended, hidden and flaunted my addiction, telling anyone who asked that I wasn’t trying to kill myself, just trying to deal with the everyday stress of being a teenager/young adult. I joined Pro-SI communities on LiveJournal, took and posted pictures of my wounds and scars, got my story uploaded to a place called Psyke.org, even wrote a few letters to talk show hosts asking them to touch on the forbidden subject of Self Injury. I would get lots of feedback, some positive and some not so positive, but I never felt satisfied. I wanted more people to know that I did this to myself and that while it was beyond ‘normal’, I wasn’t the only one who did it.

It went from being something that helped me feel less stressed out, to a full blown addiction that kept me locked in its arms for the entirety of my teenage years. Everything I did revolved around my Self Injury. Anything could trigger an episode for me. A fight with my mom or little brother, being left out of plans with friends, even opening up the newspaper to see that someone’s house had burnt to the ground made me want to cut. Sometimes, there was no trigger. I just felt like doing it because it gave me something to do.

I couldn’t make simple decisions, such as wearing short sleeves or hanging out with certain friends because I was afraid someone might see and get upset. I’d already had several people who knew about it threaten to slap my cuts or stop being my friend, but it didn’t help. I figured that if they weren’t going to love and accept me for who I was and what I did, then I didn’t need them either.

I was wrong.

I lost several friends and even a boyfriend because of the things that I did. It made it hard for me to want to attempt quitting because I figured, what’s the point? If I quit just to make these people happy, what the hell was in it for me without my trusty, relief bringing razors? The promise of winning back friends and loved ones just wasn’t enough to quit. I didn’t just want my friends back, I wanted to be able to go out and do things and be happy about those things instead of locking myself away in my room to cut and browse Pro-SI sites on the internet, which had become a trigger all in itself. But I never got motivated enough to try. I was never willing to give up the pain and relief that a simple strip of metal could bring to me.

I quickly got sick of hiding it, too. I wanted to share my solution to the pain people brought me. Some twisted little voice told me that it would make them feel bad for abandoning me and make them run back to make everything all right. So, I stopped wearing long sleeves around anyone who wasn’t my mother or my little brother.

One day, after a heavy cutting session the previous night, I went to school without wearing my signature arm warmers. I thought I was helping myself by showing it off when really, I was causing people to look at me like a freak. Some of my peers were truly concerned for me, but others just thought it was for attention and in a way, it kind of was. One of my teachers, who at the time seemed to be trying to get me to conform to the ‘normal’ ways of society, unwillingly kept my secret for a long time, often checking in to make sure I wasn’t causing more harm to myself than usual. She made it a point to check for infection and things like that, until one day, stressed out by the actions of a friend, I ran to the girls bathroom and cut myself out of pure spite for this person.

I made the mistake of going back into the classroom with a paper towel pressed to my arm that was quickly becoming saturated with blood. My teacher asked me to show her what I’d done and I resisted until she told me that she would call the campus security to have me escorted to the office. I showed her and she called the vice principal anyway. He suggested that I take the next few days off to de-stress (when really, he was sugarcoating the fact that he was suspending me) and then proceeded to tell my mother.

Ever since, my mom kept an eye on me, asking to see my arms on a daily basis until I finally had to switch to cutting in places she couldn’t see without asking me to remove my clothes. This continued for a while until she realized I wasn’t going to just wake up one day with the idea of stopping in my mind. She stopped asking unless I sported a set of fresh cuts or scabs.

Over the years, I’ve attempted to get help for my problem, finding that I just didn’t want to hear what anyone had to say unless it was to compare stories or to tell me that I wasn’t a freak for doing it. I tried anti-depressants and reading books about Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, even got myself a therapist I actually liked. But the cravings would only subside for small periods of time and then come back to hit me full force. I quit taking the pills, stopped reading my books and had parted ways with my therapist when she moved back to the city to resume her job as a Probation Advocate.

I started trying to cure myself, which worked temporarily, mostly because I didn’t want to hear any shit from my friends. I still cut myself in secret and just kept it to myself. Occasionally, I’d slip up and someone would notice and just tell me that if I needed to talk, to let them know. I always promised that I would, but never actually got around to doing so when I did feel the urge to do it again.

For a while, I stopped almost completely, finding other ways of dealing with my pain and emotional distress that were just as unhealthy, but didn’t leave visible scars.

Then, right before I was about to turn twenty one, I started having suicidal urges again and the cutting came back in a full blown wave that startled me to the point where I attempted to put myself in a hospital for treatment. I lasted about five hours before I begged to go home and they almost didn’t let me go without permission from my mother. They said because I was brought in under the threat of suicide, I couldn’t be released unless my mother felt confident enough for me to be home alone.

About a month later, feeling much better than before with two friends that I loved dearly by my side, I got my first tattoo.

Holy shit.

The pleasure pain of the needle was more than enough to stem my cravings for the next year and it helped that the tattoo was of something that had always made me feel better at my worst moments. I had no idea that the simple Linkin Park tribute tattoo would bring me such relief that I was actually happy for months afterward.

Up until March of last year, things weren’t bad, in fact, I was at the happiest I’d ever felt in a long time, but something triggered my depression and I began cutting in secret again. Nothing like before, which were always a mass of small, insignificant wounds that healed with in a week, but smaller batches of deeper wounds that have left me with some pretty big scars.

The feelings faded a little until October, when my best friend took off to Oregon without so much as a goodbye and it just got worse as time went on.

When The Rev passed away after Christmas, I fucking lost my head.

I literally have periods of time that I cannot recall because I was so out of it from crying and screaming and pleading with God to give him back. I really felt as though I’d gone insane. I wanted to make the pain and heartache of the loss go away, and I wanted to make sure I was still alive, still real, so I did what I do best and reached for a razorblade. The cutting continued until one night, maybe a week after it happened, when I was sitting in my room, thinking about Jimmy, and the thought of what he must think of me for doing these things to myself in my haze of grief, well, it got to me.

I decided then and there that I would get a tattoo to honor him instead of just marking myself with more scars that would just draw the attention I had begun to hate. I used the $100 I got for Christmas from my father to pay for it and the experience was almost twice as exhilarating as the first time I’d sat in the chair. The buzz of the machine and the sting of the needle and ink put me into a sort of hazy, endorphin filled euphoric state that washed away the feelings of my misery.

On my way home I made a silent promise to myself, and to Jimmy, that I would no longer harm myself when I felt trapped and lost. The aftermath of questions and shame just wasn’t something I wanted to deal with anymore. Tattoos would be my new addiction and my new solution to pain, when I could afford them, of course.

For nearly two months (two months on March 16^th) I have refrained from even scratching myself to relieve the stress. I’ve turned to writing more and listening to loud music to stem the urges. Occasionally, I’ll get really upset and contemplate the action of cutting myself for hours, only to find myself not wanting to bother.

I really hope to be done with cutting before the end of the year, but I’m not going to hold my breath because that’s not how addictions work. I know that if I do end up breaking down, I won’t just be harming myself, but breaking the promise I made to Jimmy and I don’t want to do that.

It would kill me to know that I had done something to disappoint him, even in death.

So for now, I’m keeping a good grip on my recovery and checking in periodically with a few friends that truly care about my well being and fully support me on the road that lies ahead.

Hopefully by this time next year, I will be able to say I’m recovered and that the urges no longer control me the way they did when I was younger.

If you know someone or if you yourself are dealing with this addiction, please know that you’re not alone. You don’t need to check yourself into a mental hospital or a rehab clinic to learn how to recover, either. There are plenty of books and support groups out there to help. My suggestion to start your own recovery would be to find a therapist or someone you can easily talk to without fear of being judged or having them spread your secrets, and check in with them occasionally. A sponsor, if you will.

Deal with it as you would with any addiction. Don’t try to do it on your own because it won’t just go away.

Please, be safe and know that there are people who really do care, even if it feels as though you’re the only one in the world who cares about you.

#FoREVer Yours,

Cali B. Diamond

True LP Fans -vs- Ungrateful LP Fans

It has come to my attention that there are people who call themselves Linkin Park fans harassing Mike Shinoda on his blog about the release date for the new album.

First of all, back off!

These guys have been super busy, between Chester’s DBS tour and the others busy with their families and other personal situations. Yet, they found time to throw together a new track for D2D (AND a video for said track) and make an appearance at the Grammy’s. They have lives outside of sitting in a studio, trying to rush around and get things finished because some people are upset that they have to wait a few years for a new record.

Honestly, it makes me wonder if these so called ‘fans’ get off on bullying their idols around. I follow Mike, Chester and Phoenix on Twitter and it seems that a lot of people who claim to be fans like to pick on or badmouth the guys. They seem to pick on Phoenix the most. Some of the things I’ve seen him re-Tweet make me sick to my stomach at the blatant lack of respect for him and the guys. It’s disgusting to see and I imagine it doesn’t make him or the others feel very good.

Seriously. Knock it the fuck off.

I’ve been a fan (a TRUE LP fan) since late 2000, after Hybrid Theory was released, and I am really starting to get pissed at the things these people are saying about my favorite band.

How can you call yourself a fan, and then turn around and tell Mike Shinoda that the new record had better come out earlier than December or LP’s gonna lose a lot of fans? Who said you could speak for ME?! If you think I’m gonna just drop Linkin Park like they’re nothing because the album may or may not be ‘delayed’ (it can’t be delayed without a previous release date, really), you’re dead wrong, buddy.

I’ll admit, I was a little impatient before Minutes to Midnight came out, but the thought to bully them into making a new record never crossed my mind. Ever. I take what I am given and I make few complaints, and if I do complain, I don’t throw it in their faces. I saw what I need to say in a private blog or something and move on.

It’s like what happened with the LPU 8 CD. People (‘fans’) were complaining that the guys only gave us live tracks on the special CDs we get in our Linkin Park Underground fan packs. They pushed and bullied and frankly, I think they pissed LP off because come December, when the packs usually come out, we were given a bit of a jolt to our systems with the ‘Mmm…Cookies’ ‘album’.

Personally, I think it was a smart move on LP’s part.

Make the ungrateful fans eat their words and it’ll make them shut up for a while. At least, you’d think so. Of course, someone found something to complain about, and they did. I think the CD is hilarious and the perfect prank for the ungrateful jerks. Good job, LP!

And you have to wonder what LP thinks about the fans that do and say the rude things they do. I can imagine that they’re hurt and upset. Here is this fanbase that has always appreciated what was given to them, who have always defended them vehemently, and all of a sudden they’ve turned into a bunch of spoiled brats. It sickens me. It really does.

I’ve toyed with the idea of creating a True LP Fans club on FaceBook or MySpace, but so far, it’s just a pipe dream. I’d love to make a place where those of us who have nothing but undying love for this band can gather and talk about them and their work. Obviously, there will be a difference in opinions and some people may butt heads a little bit, but at the end of the day, we’d all be there because we share the same love for them.

Maybe one day in the future, it will happen. For now, I’m content with bitching out ungrateful assholes who call themselves ‘real fans’. If you were a real fan, you’d appreciate anything they gave you. You wouldn’t bitch and complain or bully the guys into giving you more when they’ve given all they can for the time being.

Be patient. Really. And think about it this way, a few years between albums makes for better music and it’s not like they’re going to pull a Guns ‘n Roses on us and make us wait ten years for an album.

Of course, keep pushing, complaining, bullying and being rude, and they just might do that.

To Mike, Chester, Brad, Dave, Joe and Rob -  Though you may never read this, please know that I am a True Linkin Park fan and I will be here for you forever. I will take what I am given with few complaints (they’re more like opinions anyway) and encourage others to do the same. I will defend and love you and your music until the day I die. Please don’t be discouraged by those out there who wear the LP Fan name and do nothing but bitch and moan. Your real fans will never turn our backs on you. One person does not speak for all of us. And they certainly don’t speak for me.

Much love.

Cali B. Diamond

Cali has been a busy, busy girl!

Okay, now on to the new works I’ve promised.

Let me apologize first, for the very, VERY late post. I know I promised that things would be up on Christmas Eve, but Santa Cali got very drunk that night and was barely able to see the screen, let alone properly post everything below. So please forgive me for the lateness and enjoy what I have for you.

Be warned that some things will not be available to everyone because they have been posted to a private journal meant only for a specific group of people. However, if interested in reading these works, just drop me a comment here and I will add you to the friends list as soon as possible. (Note: You MUST have a LiveJournal account in order to be added.)

Stories – All NEW chaptered stories are linked to first chapter

Scream
Lonely No More 
The Beast Within
Monster 
Cali, Called Gonzo
Taken 
Warmness on the Soul – 5 part Standalone
A Little Piece of Heaven
Show Me Your Teeth – Standalone 
Ménage

Updates – New chapters for existing stories

Crashed:  CH 7 – 8 - 9

The following is a very special treat, as I have been debating whether to debut the first chapter of this story for quite some time now. In all of its zombified, gory glory, I bring you the first chapter of my (hopefully) upcoming zombie novel, Z-13.

Z-13

Chapter 1 – Outbreak

Now for a few poems that I absolutely cannot resist sharing. Please be warned that not all of my poems are happy, fuzzy, sparkly and all that other pretty shit. I’m a very angsty person and dark is what I do best, so enjoy these either way.

Poems

To The Rev: I Miss You
The Body of Music
Music = Life
Shredded Paper Hearts
Sickness
Damned
Utter Nonsensual
Little Things
Silent Gossip
Tricked into Paranoia
Idol Insanity

I hope all of you enjoy these works and please, feel free to drop me a few reviews or just a simple comment or two. Also, be sure to check out the new Rev-amped headers in the Gone Gonzo blog and in the Bliss in Ignorance writing LJ. You can view the new header in my personal Livejournal, however, you won’t be able to read anything, as it is strictly friends only like most of my LJs. I swear, I will do a graphics post in the coming weeks and those of you who don’t like Livejournal will be able to see them.

xoxo

Cali B. Diamond