Desire

"How much psychopath can you handle?"

Enough to become aroused by knife play and almost suffocation.

Ah, it was relieving to have a friend to discuss otherwise sensitive and forbidden topics related to mine own psychopathy. But this... This is even better.

Never did I think I would actually be able to live out my knife play fantasies. Nor find someone to nearly choke me out for pleasure, one who truly struggles not to go through with it for real. The risk is there. And that is most satisfying.

My intentions are purely driven by desire. For the pursuit of an utmost pleasure I would no where else be allowed to endure.

It is exhilarating. And I imagine no other possible source. 

My capacities to love and pursue sexual fulfillment are separate. I have no moral quandaries if such a sexual pursuit is so emotionless. Satisfy my limbic system but not my heart.

Decline

What even is this.

What is going on. 

I'm at a loss. 

Someone please fix me. 

I know it's important to share these thoughts. 

But even now I am so exhausted and dragged down. 

I need help. 

I'm unstable.

I'm out of control. 

I'm deteriorating. 

Help. 

Dazed and Confused

... and scared.
Of what? I'm not completely sure.

I'm definitely stressed about college.
Assignments are just piling up.

But why?
Because I am dazed and confused.

In a word, depressed.

Depressing bares down on me with all its strength, crushing me.
It is unyielding, persistent.

Why?
Why, I ask.

I spend my days performing easy, unimportant tasks.
The important ones looming.

I am a tutor who knows a lot about study strategy.
Yet somehow, I just can't do it.

Can I do this?
With a vehement core, I feel like I cannot.

Just every, single, day... I sit without a purpose, without a feeling, without inspiration.
Just dazed, dazed...

Though I am logically coherent, I feel otherwise incoherent.
Dizzy, even though the room is not spinning.
Lightheaded, even though I don't feel faint.
And simple confused, even though my logic says I ought not to be.

This monster, it is not logical.
This monster, it is not clear.
This monster, it is not concise.

This monster... it is not me.

Success, dreams, all being sapped away.
For this monster is always hungry.

If only I could end my own suffering.
It is truly my own hell.

Anxiety-striken

I've been very anxious lately.
I couldn't tell you why.

I can barely even describe it.
Just random things have made me anxious, or really nothing at all.

Depression, and now anxiety.
Things aren't going well.

I just can't handle this.

Dragging

This depression just drags along.
Sigh.

I'm not sad.
I'm just low.

This is unacceptable.

I'm so frustrated.
I found out that I'm not on a clinical dosage of lithium.

Why?

Why have I had to suffer so long?
Why couldn't I be on the clinical dose?

All this time.
Suffering.

I just want to be stable.

Some kind of fear

During an episode I have certain explicit fears.
All of which I have already profusely mentioned.

But what about that other kind of fear?
That fear for which I cannot put into words.

Robbed of my sleep, I become paralyzed in fear as I lie in my bed, alone.
Blurry, non-language thoughts racing by.

Could it be the anxiety of not understanding what thoughts flit by so fast?

I have no clue.
I wish I did.

Outside looking in

How do I even begin to describe how I feel?
I don't know that I even can.

How does one feel so out of control without being out of control?
How does one feel so confused sans delirium?

Is this unconsciously fabricated?
Or am I somehow an observer of myself?

I feel as though I am totally cognizant of what's going on in my mind.
I just can't describe it for the life of me.

All I know is that I don't feel stable.
I don't feel in control.
I want to scream and cry, yet I remain stoic.

I feel an intense desire to just give up.
But something inside me holds a flicker of hope.

I just wonder if I will ever get over how destructive this disorder is to my education.