I started having violent thoughts when I was quite young. I use to draw pictures of naked and semi naked women being mauled to death by wolves. I remember one of my babysitters being very concerned over the pictures. She never babysat us again after that.
As a child I was fascinated by death or rather, the process of dying. I liked watching things die. I can't explain why, but it still fascinates me to this day. When I was young I started killing insects in different ways so I could watch them die. This led to hurting and killing animals as I got older. As a teenager, having been raised around violence and abuse, I began having violent fantasies towards my family.
I experienced my first homicidal urge 24 years ago, at the age of 16. I wanted to tie my family up in the lounge room and burn the house down with them in it. The house actually did catch fire sometime after I had left home. Everybody who was in it at the time survived though.
At some point I started fantasizing about shooting my mother's boyfriend's mother because she was a real bitch. I had access to a gun, so I wrote her name on one of the bullets. My mother, who had come over to see me that day for some reason (I had already left home at that stage), found the bullet, but didn't get angry at me over it. She hated the woman as much as I did. So, I doubt she would have cared if I had killed her. Fortunately for the woman, I didn't end up killing her.
As I got older, my interest in murder became more than just seeking a means to an end. My attention turned to attractive strangers. The murder fantasies became intertwined with my sexual fantasies and the anger I experienced while growing up. The beast within grew a hunger for power, control and hedonistic desire.
For 24 years now I've been experiencing homicidal fantasies and urges to kill. When the urges get real bad they're harder to control. Controlling them becomes literally tormenting to the point where I feel like I'm going to lose my mind if I don't find some release. Anger and aggression builds up like a ticking time bomb.
Sometimes I feel like I've been cursed and I wish that I didn't experience these homicidal urges at all. The fantasies themselves aren't really the problem. I enjoy having them, but the fantasy is only satisfying to a point. I have more than a desire to kill people these days. It has become what feels like a compulsive need.
I feel like I'm on a path to self-destruction. Everything that used to work as a release, doesn't work anymore. There's a part of me that wants to stop wanting to kill people because I know that it could end very badly for me. I just wish I could satisfy my urges in a way that won't involve the possibility of life in prison.