"A Kind Of Salvation"💗
🤍CONFESSIONAL FAILS & INNER- REFLECTIONS🤍 includes: 1+ HOUR MIXTAPE - [11 MAY 2025]
If you like your newsletters without politics or preconceptions or seeking a break from the norm you may have just found your new hangout
11 MAY 2025 - We’ve come so far… to know who we are.. in the dark… Let Me Know When You Get Here!
Dear Chasers💗
It is with great courage that I enter your space now, and as frequently as I do and that I return time and time again. I have lost a few. I won’t pretend that everyone appreciates my thoughts and ‘wisdom’🤣 and you know me too well by now to know I am far from wise! It’s always tricky knowing where to start when I’m unsure of who I’m writing to or for or who might get to read this.
I find myself returning to this newsletter as the ‘original source’ - I sometimes wish to feel, be, creative and become ‘wholesome’ whereas most of the time, although with good intentions, I almost always come across as sad and gross as my situation - my personal environment enables me to do so. I know that we can only work with the knowledge available to us at the time.
I know this much. I’m not going to say ‘nothing at all’. The opposite in fact. I know that I know far too much more than the minimum wisdom necessary - enough to enable me to forget justification being available to me, and NOT to expect forgiveness, acceptance or sympathy for my life and unsavoury behaviours. I just haven’t got the mental capacity, intelligence or inclination to activate ‘self control’ and seek ‘consistency’.
What I don’t know yet and maybe never will, is my own worth. Who I am today, who I was yesterday or who I’ll be tomorrow. This all sounds so cliche so let’s just continue for a second and say, tomorrow isn’t promised, tomorrow never comes, live as if you’ll die tomorrow. Well, I appreciate all those uplifting sentiments, but that’s not what I’m on about. I am looking for consistency both here with my writing and creativity.. but also with myself.
I guess, I am on this pendulum with borderline Identity Crisis being fixed to a high swing, baseline being hedonistic introvert nihilist depressed, stifled personality, anxiety ridden, happy-go-lucky warrior queen, victim mentality..
Oh wait.. I’ll stop you here. Just for a second. Once of the causes of my confusion over my own ‘identity’ as in my personality, my belief system, my moral guidelines, boundaries, wants needs, desires (sorry, this wasn’t supposed to be a mad mix of word lists and sentences made up of word salad), I swear if I have to read this back - which I hope to do for some people who like to listen to my letters as a preference - I will actually hate reading over this part and probably stumble and mess up the organic flow of things.
I almost feel like I have no idea where this is going. I write these things straight of the cuff based on a simple ‘thought’ and sometimes I don’t even know what to expect. In fact a lot of the time I really don’t have an actual message to convey… and that in itself is bugging me. I lack structure. I feel the apathy for my writing, as I’m writing it. It comes and goes in waves. I feel safe here. Is the introduction message I might have left out.
As for the ID situation, one of my gripes and causes of confusion used to be the unknown elephant in the room. I used to be so outgoing, caring and kind but unaffected by other people and their emotions. I was headstrong and still a bit of a twat but I filled the room with an energy that was organic and matching within my soul, bones, underneath my skin and came directly from the original source (my heart). I didn’t put my brain in gear but was careful as to not cause any upset or distress to those around me who were listening. Since being in an intimate relationship with my partner. May 31st is our 15th year Anniversary (I’ve been dining out on that number for at least two years by now so already the milestone is an anticlimax).
From the beginning we were the ‘power couple’ we complimented each other’s strong suits but as we began to shed light on our blindspots, I was blindly in love so of course drilled it into him that he had no flaws at all, he was the perfect human, beautiful on the inside and out, magical specimen. He on the other hand did the right thing which was to dig out anything which wasn’t attractive, perfect or ideal for him about me. I crumbled. I let my guard slip; eventually breaking down the stoic version of myself, discovering ‘the truth’ about how shit I was, how incompetent, how deluded*, how ugly, and then eventually (now where I am today) I have become just this tiny cracked echo not even the shadowy version of person who I used to know as me.
*having a mental illness that adds ‘delusional thinking’ to your brain chemistry was disastrous for me. It was proof that everything I believed about myself was in fact an illusion!
It made this allegation ‘everything you think is a delusion’ that I had on myself - following his observation of me being told this was actually so (in my mind setting off alarm bells that all this time I had been being misinformed by mind, soul, heart and that I could NO longer rely on natural ability or instinct, gut feeling, intuition.)
It all boiled down to my conclusion that I needed him more than ever to be my soundboard, personal adviser, lifeline, carer, all those things and more if he was willing. I made him the driver in my life. I was nothing without him because now I had been shown and told that my reality was warped and if I were to survive, then - I could NEVER trust myself again!
Schizophrenia as a diagnoses fucked me over in ways that I didn’t see coming until it was too late. It made it seem even more true and closer to the bone that ever imagined. It made me question every single belief and break it down into fact or fiction. What proof or evidence could I grab to confirm that I wasn’t a nice person? Only HIS opinion. Suddenly I relied on his ‘opinions’ as gospel. He was my lover, my friend, my Bible, my God, my only access to rationality and logic and a gateway drug to find and encompass all that I needed to sort my head out. SANITY. If I had that I could fix myself. I could correct my imperfections. I could adjust. I’d be fine. No! I never have been alright since. Hence why I am all over the place. I thought he was my saviour. He became the puppet master. I didn’t know who I was half the time.
He moulded me into something that would be easier to take care of. He didn’t like me attracting attention, he was jealous if anyone else fancied me, or approached me. He made me unapproachable because I believed in him. While I was pushing him up onto this unholy pedistal he was standing all over my fucking head to get up. Now I trusted his love. Now he was mine. Now I’m no good. He is my idol, a legend, my God. That’s when I became locked-in and only ventured out in the metaverse. Made my own little ecosystem online. I found Substack, Instagram, Poetry and Writing another way to pass my time. It began with making mixtapes because I can express myself through music. The same way I go to music to stock up on the love and emotion that is and has always been lacking towards me - throughout childhood, early adulthood and now midlife.
‘A million different people from one day to the next’ The Verve
I came here to be wholesome again. To be open and wholesome. I have been struggling with my mental health and stress management skills have gone to shit these past couple of weeks. I have slowly starting coming out of hibernation and feel as rough and ready and a grumpy grizzly bear. I have been writing a bit out of character. If I continue to try and adopt a character like ducking someone else’s coat at a nightclub. It still wound’t fit me properly. So, last night a bit of the old confident me came to the forefront.
I didn’t feel ‘clean’ after coming clean writing stream of consciousness. I didn’t feel absolved from all my sins. I felt like a traitor to the image made by the man I love and the nothingness effigy of the person I used to think I was before.
I have also written this other letter - which is supposed to be a bit more funny on that publication. I was neither funny or happy with the writing and afterwards with the end result. I’m just stepping back into things slowly. I feel like now that I have identified the problem as being me, I no longer require resources from him (my partner is just living his life.. we’ve discussed this issue many times, only he is totally unaware. I just keep it all in my head. He means less harm that he is committing.) I take full responsibility for my soul’s evacuation and slow destruction.
I am absolutely obsessing about starting out again. This time by keeping my newsletters going; but adding a YouTube channel into the mix. I just hate the way I look. I am no good at talking for hours. I have nothing to offer. So I look at it as clean slate. Something of a challenge to figure out what kind of ‘art’ I can add to the world via this video platform. I might make a DIY version of self-improvements for a year? Nah, sounds shit. Any ideas for a YOUTUBE channel where I can just film other stuff and then discuss things as a voice-over, if you have any interest or thoughts about what you might think I’d be good at doing. Please leave a comment below or message me directly on Substack. Thanks.
I think I have my kind of salvation nestled within myself but by speaking about it in this letter I feel it has tremendously helped.
With trepidation I have recorded a wee End Note:
Yours Sincerely,
from your mate,
…Chasey💗
Playing Us Out Is My ‘EXIT MIXTAPE’ I Dedicate To YOU..x:
Fantastic work as always
What an insightful and frankly beautiful article. Thank you for showcasing fragility with such strength.
My mother would always speak of people in terms of mosaics. She said that some people remained as plain and simple as a tiled wall. Others were broken, shattered into a million pieces. But only those whose fragments were many; could create truly breathtaking mosaic masterpieces.
Just be careful who you let cocreate your mosaic, because you should always be the principal artist.