CrimsonTears001
05-03-2005, 03:51 PM
I’ve always been an exceptional writer, but somehow I can’t seem to express myself in words. Well, I can, but every time I do, it just doesn’t seem to make my world justice. I am one of the greatest and most complicated people you will ever meet in your life. Consider it an honor that I’ve decided to show up your office almost every week for nearly 6 months.
I did not come into therapy in a state of mind of wanting to get better. I have no desire to ‘cure’ myself of anything. I came to therapy because my school made me, and I continue to come because it gives me something to do. It’s amusing to see you form theories about me. Think you know anything at all about me other than the obvious.
I don’t like people. At all. In my opinion every human, other than myself, on this earth could die and I wouldn’t care. Hell, my aunt got blown up freshman year and I didn’t give a s**t. I didn’t care that my great aunt died over Christmas either. It’s natures way of getting rid of what doesn’t deserve to exist. I prefer to be alone. I don’t mind people that I can’t see, though. That’s why I love the internet. I can easily rid myself of someone I don’t like. Wonderful little block buttons. I wish I had them in real life.
You want to know what it is I’m hiding from you? A hell of a lot. A lot of people have tried to get inside of my head and failed miserably. I tried to let Kayla in once, and I told her a little bit of my...secret...and she got scared and confused. A wonderful sight. A person in fear. I don’t think I’m ******ed up, I just enjoy entertaining myself. A kid in my class, James, who is always talking about how he’s so ******ed up. He talks about how he’s anorexic (thought he’s 5'5" and weighs 150 lbs) and how he’s a horrible cutter. I’ve seen the cuts on his wrists. They are very slight scrapes. They never even bled. And now he thinks his mother is going to commit him because he told her he was going to kill himself and how. I called him an attention *****. He got mad at me and told me I didn’t understand pain, that if he killed himself I’d have a guilty conscience for not caring. #1) I don’t ever feel guilty. Someone else’s death is not my problem #2) He won’t do it.
You asked me what races through my head? A ******ing freight train. That’s what. I can’t stop thinking. It pisses me off. It’s always about stupid s**t too. Like something someone told me a few hours or days ago. You know how some people get songs stuck in their head? That’s what it feels like a lot for me. I get words or actions stuck in my head. I get addicted to responding to everything with ‘ur mom’ and I either don’t realize it or can’t help it. I get addicted to hugging someone, or hitting another. If I hear something through only one ear I feel really uncomfortable and don’t feel better until I hear it through both ears. If I hear a specific sound that I’m not sure about, I get really fidgety and nervous until I hear it again. And there’s just a bunch of s**t like that. I get these really random, crazy cravings. Like if I even hear the mention of a video game I like, I get really frustrated and can’t focus until I play the game or watch a video clip of it. Or I just randomly get a craving to stab someone. Hence why so many of my friends have scars on their arms. I either claw at them or stab them with writing utensils. I can’t help it. I get addicted to actions as well. Like if I’m on the computer, I will be on it for hours. I won’t get up to eat or anything. I forget to eat a lot. I will watch TV for hours and I can’t do anything else. I will draw for hours or write for hours. I can’t stop. I have to do it.
There are always reasons behind what I do. About the January incident. About why I cut or burn. But I’ll never tell you. I’m smarter than that. Nothing good can come out of telling you anything. Only bad. It’s hard enough for me to block things out of my mind while I’m in your office so that you can’t read my mind. I refuse to let you. It’s not your business. I know what makes me happy. I know what gives me strength. I know what my hopes, dreams, desires are. And it’s one thing the world will never know, not until the time is right. They will all know when I want them too.
I feel dead inside. I feel powerful on the outside. My soul left me long ago. I’m merely a walking capsule...a ticking time bomb. One person controls my destiny. On the outside I can control anyone I want to. On the inside I’m the one controlled. Consumed by death. You’d be scared just knowing what I know. Just having seen what I have. My days are controlled by obsessions over ways to kill people. And every once in a while I get these enormous cravings to just grab someone’s arm and twist it until they scream in pain. I want to see them scream. I want to see them cry. I want to see them feel what I feel on the inside. I want them to suffer horrible. And they deserve it too. Just for being alive. Just for being in my way. I decide whose worthy enough to be anywhere near me. I want a real life ‘block or ‘delete’ button.
And yet, this is only the beginning. Do I trust you to hold this knowledge? No. This is my condensed letter. This is why I don’t like opening up to people. It gives them too much knowledge. Only I am allowed to know of this evil. The gateway between life and death, heaven and hell. Only I am allowed to see it.
I did not come into therapy in a state of mind of wanting to get better. I have no desire to ‘cure’ myself of anything. I came to therapy because my school made me, and I continue to come because it gives me something to do. It’s amusing to see you form theories about me. Think you know anything at all about me other than the obvious.
I don’t like people. At all. In my opinion every human, other than myself, on this earth could die and I wouldn’t care. Hell, my aunt got blown up freshman year and I didn’t give a s**t. I didn’t care that my great aunt died over Christmas either. It’s natures way of getting rid of what doesn’t deserve to exist. I prefer to be alone. I don’t mind people that I can’t see, though. That’s why I love the internet. I can easily rid myself of someone I don’t like. Wonderful little block buttons. I wish I had them in real life.
You want to know what it is I’m hiding from you? A hell of a lot. A lot of people have tried to get inside of my head and failed miserably. I tried to let Kayla in once, and I told her a little bit of my...secret...and she got scared and confused. A wonderful sight. A person in fear. I don’t think I’m ******ed up, I just enjoy entertaining myself. A kid in my class, James, who is always talking about how he’s so ******ed up. He talks about how he’s anorexic (thought he’s 5'5" and weighs 150 lbs) and how he’s a horrible cutter. I’ve seen the cuts on his wrists. They are very slight scrapes. They never even bled. And now he thinks his mother is going to commit him because he told her he was going to kill himself and how. I called him an attention *****. He got mad at me and told me I didn’t understand pain, that if he killed himself I’d have a guilty conscience for not caring. #1) I don’t ever feel guilty. Someone else’s death is not my problem #2) He won’t do it.
You asked me what races through my head? A ******ing freight train. That’s what. I can’t stop thinking. It pisses me off. It’s always about stupid s**t too. Like something someone told me a few hours or days ago. You know how some people get songs stuck in their head? That’s what it feels like a lot for me. I get words or actions stuck in my head. I get addicted to responding to everything with ‘ur mom’ and I either don’t realize it or can’t help it. I get addicted to hugging someone, or hitting another. If I hear something through only one ear I feel really uncomfortable and don’t feel better until I hear it through both ears. If I hear a specific sound that I’m not sure about, I get really fidgety and nervous until I hear it again. And there’s just a bunch of s**t like that. I get these really random, crazy cravings. Like if I even hear the mention of a video game I like, I get really frustrated and can’t focus until I play the game or watch a video clip of it. Or I just randomly get a craving to stab someone. Hence why so many of my friends have scars on their arms. I either claw at them or stab them with writing utensils. I can’t help it. I get addicted to actions as well. Like if I’m on the computer, I will be on it for hours. I won’t get up to eat or anything. I forget to eat a lot. I will watch TV for hours and I can’t do anything else. I will draw for hours or write for hours. I can’t stop. I have to do it.
There are always reasons behind what I do. About the January incident. About why I cut or burn. But I’ll never tell you. I’m smarter than that. Nothing good can come out of telling you anything. Only bad. It’s hard enough for me to block things out of my mind while I’m in your office so that you can’t read my mind. I refuse to let you. It’s not your business. I know what makes me happy. I know what gives me strength. I know what my hopes, dreams, desires are. And it’s one thing the world will never know, not until the time is right. They will all know when I want them too.
I feel dead inside. I feel powerful on the outside. My soul left me long ago. I’m merely a walking capsule...a ticking time bomb. One person controls my destiny. On the outside I can control anyone I want to. On the inside I’m the one controlled. Consumed by death. You’d be scared just knowing what I know. Just having seen what I have. My days are controlled by obsessions over ways to kill people. And every once in a while I get these enormous cravings to just grab someone’s arm and twist it until they scream in pain. I want to see them scream. I want to see them cry. I want to see them feel what I feel on the inside. I want them to suffer horrible. And they deserve it too. Just for being alive. Just for being in my way. I decide whose worthy enough to be anywhere near me. I want a real life ‘block or ‘delete’ button.
And yet, this is only the beginning. Do I trust you to hold this knowledge? No. This is my condensed letter. This is why I don’t like opening up to people. It gives them too much knowledge. Only I am allowed to know of this evil. The gateway between life and death, heaven and hell. Only I am allowed to see it.