I’m tired of being alone, but I don’t know if I want to stop. It’s hard, not being able to talk about what goes on in my head. How can I just tell people when they ask what I’m thinking about, “Oh not much, just envisioning your head getting beaten in with a baseball bat.” It’s not like I can stop these thoughts. My therapist and psychiatrist call them obsessive intrusive psychotic thoughts. I’ve had them my entire life, for as long as I can possible remember. It’s weird, being a little kid, maybe 4 yrs old, and seeing people die or get tortured in many different graphic ways in my head. It just happens. I’ll just glance at someone and see them die horribly. Once I glanced at a girl and envisioned grabbing her by the hair and smashing her head into the wall until she was a dead bloody mess. Depending on who you are and all, there are darker thoughts in my head as well. Things that I don’t even want to write anonymously online. And yet I want to tell someone! But who can I talk to about how disturbing it is? How horrible it is to be regaled with these thoughts so often? I’m so frustrated and angry, and depressed, about it. It isn’t right, or fair. I didn’t ask to be like this and I have to hide it. I have tried my whole life to not be as I am, to no avail. The only saving grace, I suppose, is that I won’t follow through with any of these thoughts. I despise them, yet they have become a part of me and I don’t think I would be me without them.
Even though I have found a group of women who I feel I can trust, how can I even begin to explain my thoughts? How can I just go in there and say what goes on in my head, when I can’t even write it down here? Or anywhere? I can’t even write it down on a piece of notebook paper to wad up and throw in a fire. It’s… it’s so personal and full of severe emotions… I’m too sensitive. And so are other people, especially concerning certain topics. Sure, they might feign understanding, but they would most likely become wary of me, not trust me so much, maybe even stop talking so much. All because I have thoughts I can’t control. Thoughts I’ve had my entire life. Thoughts that no 4 yr old should ever ever have. It is a lonely horrible torture.