(It's hard for me to express myself in words at times, so if this post sounds like a clutter of thoughts, I apologize.)
I miss my friends... I'm better off alone, people never stick around for long anyway. It warms my heart to know that being a person with open ears can lift so much off a friend's shoulders... I can care less about their problems. Stabbing a person with a knife and gouging out their eyes makes me shudder in excitment... but it must be the worst feeling in the world at the same time. I'm just another melodramatic teen... I don't know who I am, do I exist? Am I normal?
Do I really have anything to complain about? Mostly everyone I know... has been through so much. Can I really compare my pain to their's? I shouldn't ask for help, I should be helping... I feel like a horrible person, all I can do to make up for it is to be a loyal friend and letting everyone rant their heart out to me, so why does my friendship mean nothing to them? Even though I didn't let them really know me, they meant so much to me.
Just this morning, my mouth was watering, I was craving the taste of my own blood. But when I got the knife, I put the blade on my skin, paranoid thoughts rushed into my mind. "This is the kitchen knife, I'll taint it with my blood. What if I have AIDS/HIV? What if the scar never goes away and someone sees it and thinks I just want attention?"
I'm not the type of person who should be a doctor, like my parents want me to be. I feel uneasy in hospitals, and everytime I have something dangerous in my hands, I suddenly get impulses to kill and hurt someone with it. I am disgusted by how much excitment and even joy it brings me to imagine those scenes at times. My mouth waters at the thought of spilled blood. And If I go for another career, I wouldn't be following the "Asian stereotype" that I feel oblidged to live by.
Life feels pointless. All I really want is a friend who'll stay by my side, someone who responds to my thoughts and concerns the way I want them to, not just interupt and start talking about makeup when I'm talking about how I'm worried about my habit of punching myself in the face. But everyone whom I opened up to left and/or betrayed me.
A lot of my symptoms match up with OCD and Schizotypal PD, but I doubt it for some reason. I don't know how to explain it, I just doubt it. It's so hard to explain my feelings that I am angry with myself.
I don't know what's wrong with me. I feel alone in my thoughts, alone in this world. All I can do is to continue living life behind a mask, though I have no idea how much of it is real and what is fake.
I try to bottle my feelings, to the point where I probably look emotionless. Then at times, I burst out laughing for no reason, or cry over little things, or get so mad to the point I'm probably violent.
I'll stop this post here, before I start typing thoughts that don't relate to this at all.