I thought that a new location, new people, new school, new lifestyle would be enough. Lose weight, hit the gym, go to class every day, don't smoke/drink/self injure/binge.
Last time I felt this feeling I was headed down a really bad road and didn't really care. I was a depressed shut-in who thought about nothing but death all day and night. The people I lived with, I wanted to tear their guts out in the most painful way possible and it would've been so sweet.
But I didn't. Instead, in a half-conscious state I managed to get myself hospitalized, removed from everything for a bit. In a way it worked in that it shocked my brain into focusing on something outside of myself. I was still out of it for awhile but this year's been good.
No matter what I do, I can't stop it from coming back. This desire within me to utterly destroy someone. I thought that with the meds, I'd be able to stay above this chasm I'm slowly slipping into yet again. It seems regardless of what I do to distance myself from it, there's no escaping these fantasies.
I was clean of cutting for 3 months. Sounds pathetic that was an accomplishment.
"A question that often drives me hazy: am I or the others crazy?" -Einstein