So, for as long as I can remember (roughly the last 15 of my 30 years) I have experienced a vague want to see the world destroyed. When I was young there was overwhelming frustration at being consistently rejected socially and by family, never having a place within my surroundings, and a total lack of social identity. This led to a profound disconnect from not only my environment, but from reality, which I still feel to this day. I've read diary entries I wrote sparingly as a child (before I can currently remember), and all I see is pain, resentment and revenge fantasies that consumed my waking hours. After I dropped out of school was about the time my schizoid traits took over, and while the pain was still there, the rage was gone and all I felt and still feel is emptiness.
However my thought process has carried over remnants of the pain I felt as a child, and it pervades my mind like splinters behind my eyes. The little boy who wanted nothing more than to see the streets run red with the blood of his tormentors is still cowering in the corner of a vast, dark mind. I find myself engaging in dangerous activities and disregarding personal safety, or forming friendships with the unstable or socially unacceptable, merely laying in wait for an opportunity to get some hands-on release. I'm at a point where my schizoid traits are balancing my preschizoid traits, and I have enough impulse control to remain a passive observer of my world. But there is no satisfaction in this existence, and every day I will someone to shake me awake into a world where I have no chains around my hands. I have always desperately wanted to take a life, but something stops me from being an offender. I still, on some level, seek the acceptance of the world that has consistently rejected me, and the only way to achieve that is self-defense. So I wait.
Some call it homeostatis, the equilibrium of all things in perfect balance, but all I feel is crippling responsibility. The desire to take a life and the lack of motivation to do so. The longer I am in pain, denying myself what I've always wanted, the longer the world exists without the pain I could cause. So much cognitive dissonance, together with the emptiness, it's like listening to several monologues playing simultaneously without the overwhelming, gut-wrenching distress of torture. That I feel nothing is my one indulgence, and this is why the monologues will never stop. I've done everything I can to fit in, I exhaustingly wear several masks, put in every effort, I've studied the human condition academically and in the 'field', I've engaged and surrounded myself with them. All I see are people who take what they have for granted, and I find myself in a constant state of resentment because they could find it so easy and yet still they cut corners or can't be bothered. I still don't feel like one of them.
I have been considering talking to a professional within the last year or so, but I don't want my mind poisoned by chemicals, nor do I want to be incarcerated or held against my will. My main concern is that I will be reconnected with the boy I was before my memories begin, and that I will end up hating myself or realising that I deserved the rejection that caused me so much pain. Should that happen, I may end up actually connecting emotionally with the pain of my childhood which would be crippling and would almost certainly kill me. Or I may regress entirely which would combine the strength, resources and renewed ability of an adult with the rage, unpredictability and blinders of a hurt child with an axe to grind. Writing this now my head is light, I can't decide if that would be the excuse I've been looking for or a horror existence I should fear as purgatory inside my own mind. Would I become the one cowering in a dark corner, with no control over my body or future?
I have previously described life as the period of treading water between being thrown in the pool and the moment you drown. I've never attempted suicide, but it would be so easy to stop treading and let my wet clothes drag me down. Not sure why I'm writing this, other than to gauge reactions, a cry for help or maybe it's just a need to get my thoughts down. We'll see.