#punkinpatch

Please take all of what you’re about to read with a grain of salt.

TW/CW : Self harm, Suicide, Mental Illness, CSA, Slurs, Gore / Gore films, Lying Compulsive/Pathological  

Let the chaos consume you. This is everywhere, don’t expect specifics. 

Let’s start with the intrusive thoughts.

 I genuinely don’t know whether I have a mental illness like a pure type of OCD or if I’m just a bad person. Sometimes, my brain gives me random thoughts like 

“What if you were attracted to children?”  

“Doesn’t this animal in heat turn you on?”

 “Say this racial slur, who cares?” 

“Do this offensive thing, it’s not like there will ever be consequences.” 

 But let’s not mention the fact that I care for only a few people in my life and if the rest of you were to disappear, I wouldn’t really care/mind. I’m indifferent to the idea of loss, and if you were to tell me you wanted to kill yourself, god I’d say do it. 

 I’ve been only cutting myself out of boredom, but lately it’s out of pure hatred for my life; any physical pain is better than the shit that I’m feeling mentally. I think the idea of getting the shit beaten out of me would be romantic, if not, then at the very least I think I would enjoy it.

 My brain goes to lengths as of to think about raping my friends (I’m aegosexual/questioning whether I’m ace spec), touching them, ruining them. I like the idea of making someone feel like shit. I could never bring myself to actually do it, but the thought runs through my mind all the time; especially around my more innocent friends, my ace friends. I hate myself for that. I don’t *want* to do these things, but my brain is tricking me into thinking I want it. Please don’t think that I ever wanna do these things. When I say *I* want, I mean my brain wants. I don’t want. I want this to fucking end. I’m tired of it, it hurts. 

But, at the same time I want to put someone through such big trauma, and I don’t know whether that’s mental illness or just-- the way that I think. I genuinely liked watching August Underground, even though some of it was a little too much for me. I literally take my ex-abusers/best friends (I can’t even say that he abused me, I just don’t know what’s true anymore. Maybe I was sick, maybe he was. Maybe we were. It was so long ago.) I take his personality and turn it into my own, with it’s own little twists and turns. Somehow he’s still better than me; he finally got away from me and I wanna grip him and tell him to stay. I wanna sink my teeth into the guy and watch him bleed from how unhappy he is around me, especially because he knows of everything I’ve ever lied about. But he says that he’s the same. But he’s trying to improve. He’s trying, and I’m not. I just mask this, and I let it boil and boil until I breakdown and write shit like this.

I know him and now he knows me. There’s no beating around the bush, there’s no escaping that now he knows how terrible I really am. I never claimed to be good. There’s euphoria out of feeling like this I think, thinking I’m better than everyone who isn’t like this. I must know more to be able to feel these ways, might as well use it to my advantage. I either feel like shit about this 24/7 or I feel like I’m god. 

 I feel like if I were to ever openly tell this to anyone, they’d look at me like I was wrong. But, honestly, I feel like this side of me is different from the one I show at school. At school I’m this PC kid who hates hearing the words ‘faggot’ or ‘retarded’ even though I would probably still say that type of shit if I weren’t this performative activist to other people simply because I don’t think I could ever stomach confrontation like that. And not to mention the fact that I’m such a big fucking liar. I lie about shit that you shouldn’t lie about like being raped, being abused... But, then I complain when others do it (cut back to where I said that at school I’m this PC kid). But, why do I do it? I have no fucking clue. I don’t gain validation, I don’t really gain ANYTHING unless it’s online. Then, I do gain validation. But, I feel like I’ve gotten better with these big, absurd lies. I have gone through trauma, and I’ve stopped lying about it to make it bigger. Cue the applause. It’s the smaller, stupid-er shit that just pops out that I can’t seem to control. I dunno. I hate to believe that this is really me. I feel like this is just a side of me that sometimes bleeds and shows. I don’t want this to be the real me because I know that it’s wrong. I want to figure out what’s wrong with me. I really do. But there’s no escape to how I feel;; my brain is too roomy and too filled with air to figure out why I’m like this. To call me a good person because I know the shit that I think is bad would be blatant lie, a call for help on your side. 

I don’t know what I am, if I’m a product of my environment or if I’m just a product of waste. I feel absolutely nothing besides apathy for people who think that I’m disgusting, and feel indifferent to those like me. Tell me the worst thing you’ve done and I’ll applaud, even congratulate you. I don’t care whether I trigger people, but at the same time I want to make sure you feel safe around me. I don’t want to hurt you but at the same time I’d pay just to step on your neck. 

Yes this is all the intrusive thoughts, but somedays I think they’re apart of me. I think that if I break, or if I get so close to the edge, my hands will truly tear deep into someone’s skin, and that scares me. It scares us all. 

  But anyway, I can’t tell if all of those things are deep-rooted in trauma (like being very sexually active [with myself] at a very young age/knowing what sex was at a very young age/having sex at a very young age , being groomed online , looking to be groomed online , needing male validation at a young age , watching porn at a young age , and probably more smh) or if I’m just a bad person in general.