Desire to abuse cat????? by Darkfirerip on Sat Apr 30, 2016 5:13 am
Alright let me start this off with some context, I am a 18 year old senior who's life revolves around animals. At my house I have a cat and 7 reptiles (all mine), but at my grandparents who i vist every weeked, has not just a cat, but a spawn of pure evil. Now this cat we bought from a home as a kitten and raise it up to the evil it is today, it has never been abused and has a life full of enrichment amd everything it needs. But even so this cat does not let anyone pet it, it never purs, it breaks stuff, attacks at random, and has a ever growing desire to murder. My cat at home is the complete oppisite, so needless to say I was taken back by the attitude, and tried many things to correct this behavior. But recently I have had this ever burning passion to strangle the cat, step on its neck, or simply kill it in anyway possible. This started when the cat decided to ######6 fling one of my gecko enlosers across the room, break in, and eat its tail. It must have thought the taste was good too, because now she wont ######6 leave any of my enclosures alone and i have to hide them in the basement. Ever since she touched my precious child, I've felt this way, and I have given up on trying to fix whatever mental problem this cat has, because whenever I see it, I get a visual image in my mind of abusing the thing. This freaks me out, I would never hurt my other animals or even my cat, but this ######6 evil has me going crazy, and these thoughts i have need to stop.
My first entry, thank you whoever reads this by Joshykinsx on Wed Jan 28, 2015 7:43 am
Hello dear reader, I've recently discovered my disorders and wrote something a while ago in a blog. Sorry if it's too long but I can't really divide it into part, you may find it very boring but I want to thank you to whoever read the whole thing or even just looked at! Introduction, burning iceberg/frozen flame I’m not very good at writing; in fact I suck pretty much at everything. I think of myself as a walking bag of issues. I’m a highly sensitive person, I have borderline personality disorder, social anxiety, I have little bit of OCD and ADD and I often think that I’m bipolar. I understand that everybody goes through some kind of stress in their lives and that other people might have bigger problems than me…honestly I don’t give a ###$, ###$ those people! ###$ people who judge ( I do that sometimes too but then I get punished at night by my over thinking habit), ###$ people who pretend to be nice, ###$ overconfident people, ###$ people who are shy, ###$ people that like politics, ###$ people that are into religion now that I think of it, ###$ everybody! Myself included!! I’m sorry I didn’t meant to offend anyone (maybe I did), so I have extreme mood swings(as you’ve already noticed), sometimes I wanna meet people but most of the times I hate people. It’s probably because of my social anxiety, every time I’m in public I feel like everybody’s staring at me, I always thought it was some teenage stuff and that it would eventually subside but it never truly did, in fact sometimes I feel like it’s gotten worse. Each pair of eyes feels like a burn and I start sweating and panicking and I keep telling myself “oh god why are people staring at me? Is it because I’m overweight? (at a time I was but even after I lost weight I felt the same way) is my hair messed up?” Sometimes I do feel ok when I’m in public, most of the time it’s when I’m drunk or in an extremely good mood, unfortunately both don’t last very long and don’t happen very often and sometimes are mutually exclusive. I feel like I’m the ugliest person in the world, the most weird too but at the same time I realize that I’m just an ordinary guy, nothing special at all. Other times I label myself very special because I’m pathetic and I want that pity but there’s just no one in my world that would ######6 understand me so I only have myself, which is just not enough but sometimes can be overwhelming. My biggest fear and my biggest enemy are both- myself. I tend to over think stuff, stuff that other healthy normal people don’t even care about, don’t notice. I like to analyze my day right before going to sleep, every ######6 time. Every time before going to sleep my brain’s like “Oh you wanna rest? ###$ that! Let’s go through all the ###$ up $#%^ that happened today. The mean stuff people said to you or you said to them. The stupid awkward situations you put yourself or others to, about how it’s gonna haunt you for a couple of years until you do something more ###$ up, which is gonna happen pretty soon by the way. I always feel lonely and sometimes I just wish I had a girlfriend, actually every guy wants that…but then I remember what it’s like for me to be in a relationship with someone. It’s ######6 hell, both for me and for the unluckiest girl in the world who agreed to be in a relationship with me. Whenever I’m in a relationship (which is SUPER rare now) I tend to idealize (or even idolize) my partner and I cling very tightly to that person. Thinking she can understand me, support me and just always be there (which is literally ALWAYS) and of course eventually I get disappointed, always. Because I’m a selfish bastard, the very kind of people that I hate. It is part of the curse of having the borderline personality disorder, no one will ever be good enough for you and you’re never gonna be good enough for anyone as well. When people I’m really attached to stop messaging me or talking to me for whatever reasons (busy, not in the mood) I instantly take it the wrong wa... [ Continued ]
Now What? by Hartlepool_lad on Wed Feb 20, 2013 1:27 am
I am Hartlepool_lad, I have tried to type my experience on the blog about seven or eight times but each time I have erased it, the abusive voice in my head yells at me that no one is interested in my story and that I am alone, pathetic and other words that have been planted in my mind which I don't wish to reveal at the moment.
My systematic mental and physical destruction was to start almost immediately, I couldn't call or meet friends I had to explain where I'd been why I'd had to go there and what I had been doing while there and who had I spoken to, my phone and internet were checked as were my texts and e-mails. Bank account details were demanded and checked almost daily and a reason had to be forthcoming if I had withdrawn money, receipts were checked if I had paid for anything with my card, I was cut off from contacting family as she would put it “this is the only family that matters to you now” this was being constantly shored up with abuse of the type that I was crap at what I do, a useless person and painful insults that I can only shudder at now, I was verbally abused everyday, physically abused every day, I have been beaten, punched, kicked, humiliated, stabbed, had buckets of hot bleach thrown over me her aggression hightened if the house wasn't clean enough the dish washer hadn't been emptied or the ironing hadn't been done exactly how she wanted, constant accusations of infidelity, squandering money, being a useless person.
Then the torture of previous relationships started, I was given full and frank details of all the one night stands she'd had, I was informed by an ex friend of hers that she'd had threesomes and multiple encounters in one weekend.
She would regale me with the sordid details of these encounters and once estimated she'd had in excess of two hundred that she could remember and not counting the drunken one night stands she couldn't, all the while telling me that I was worthless, useless, a crap person etc.
It all came to a head in September 2005 when after months and years of such brutal torment the stress levels had reached such levels that my brain shut down for three days, I didn't know who I was, anything about myself, what I did for a job, my past anything.
I was diagnosed with P.T.S.D. Dissociative Amnesia, severe depression, social phobia and I have lost everything, my memories of my life are just shadows, the event is, as always right at the front of my eyes, she still haunts my mind and still continues to influence me inside my head, I have no respite.
Hartlepool_lad.
The devil still lurks, so why not raise my meth dose?? by bookofwildthoughts on Tue Feb 21, 2012 6:14 pm
So 2 weeks have gone by already. The 12 induction days are now over, what a relief ! I can still remember how I was living this, how days went by so slowly, with those 2 ‘girls’, those 2 bi*ches ‘rendering ‘ my life hell. Today, while we were on our meth doctor’s rendez-vous or consultation, one of my ex-induction friends (i accept to employ the word ‘friend’ here, how kind of me!) was talking over to me and that conversation TOOK ME BACK TO THE DAYS! Yes, back to the 12 induction days when we were all together, ha! To cut this story short (since I’m not writing about this today, some other day maybe…), I’m just glad I made it out! I imagined two more days with these animals in that cacophonic jukebox, that cacophonic cage, and I would have hung myself out dry, shyiiit. Believe it or not, I even made a rope out of my blanket, ready to be used… “Anytime!” I mumbled, without even shedding a tear, not even afraid of dying, well it was just for a few minutes, since that feeling quickly got out of me.
So today, when I went over to my meth doctor on consultation, the latter asked me if all’s well, if I didn’t get any side effects from my methadone or if I encountered any craving during my first week out and if I’m happy with my current meth dose. Well I told him the truth, nothing but the plain truth: every morning, I would wake up with my yawnings and running nose well, not as much as the time when I was addicted to heroin like back in the days LOL, but I’m not supposed to get any of this, not even an inch of all this ! My body was not on top mode, which is true as compared to the days when I was on induction. Even if I didn’t sleep at that time, my bosy was not as torn as it is now; we had less physical activities, less thinking to do and most of all, no stress at all, no phone ringing, no email to check, no meeting, nothing! As on my current life situation, when all’s back on other than the heroin cravings gone, I would have to, for instance, assist my parents in cleaning their yards, yes yards with an ‘s’. The truth? Well, I prefer to stay at work premises rather than spend a day home when my parents are at home as well since there would always be somewhere to go, something to do, no rest at all. And the days where we have nothing to do (meaning no cleaning or house chores), well, we would spend the days at the beach swimming and running on the beach. And I’d be all cranked up the next day at work, body all messed up, cramps, etc…
So I told all this to my meth doc and the latter just thought that was gibberish, from what I could conclude. The first thing he would mention was that I didn’t do as much physical efforts in an office, forgetting the fact that office is a part of my life. He said he would raise my daily meth dose but the question remains, since he didn’t write anything in front of me, and that’s quite discouraging.
Because then, the devil would lurk around me and maybe at a later stage, push me back on the streets who knows?? I know very well that a higher meth dose (maybe a 5ml raise might do to start with) is not recommended. Is it not better to be on a relatively higher meth dose than to hit back the streets ?
Think about it !
self-harm/cutting by thisguy41006 on Fri Mar 21, 2014 1:10 am
I am 27 and have lived with cutting for most of my life lately I have put quite a lot of thought into when in started or why I started. I think back and remembered cutting at 11 years old why I did it not a clue could have got in trouble or something but it was a *mod edit* razer yet its been months scents I have shopped for the in boulck there still around. its been 16 years I have been cutting....
Today day and time 20th: Its been hard lately I know what I do is far from OK good or safe A key that keeps me going to deep or bleed for to long is the thought of tears on my sisters face. I'm do to have a son in two months. Her head games to help this time I'm going through. Its been three days every night shower on blade out cut *mod edit* times upper arm tell my heart slows to a mild beat a twitch here a twitch there I fill like I'm taking to far waking up or fading out in a tub of my sin filled blood
Not really sure why I'm writing all I know is I'm lost only wish I can cry it out ....
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