The one who made me do what I did with house pets when I was a 7 year old
She was an adult. I was a child
I want to consume her flesh. I was to kill her. Slice her throat. Butcher and consume her
When I was younger I used to help my grandma by killing chickens
But
As I killed them
As the blood spurted in front of me
I liked to hold the heads up to my face and watch the life leave their eyes.
And I felt..... something that-
Something
That I started feeling more when I hit puberty
I mean I killed the chickens for food and was fulfilling chores for my grandmother at her request but-
I get really triggered by anyone killing animals for reasons that are not for food.
I have feelings I don't understand but I still have ethics.
My fascination became
Dead bodies
Death
The road kill ended up taking on an entirely new meaning for me.
I cannot reach a certain type of pleasure without thinking of death
But I grew out of it
I became normal. It went away.
Until
The shooting I was in as I watched people die in front of me
My brain turned the pain into pleasure to cope and I have never stopped hating myself for it
But I was able to shut it away and not really think about it
Until.....him.....his stories......of a.shooting he wasn't even there for as he lied to create a trauma.bond with me using fake stories and lies likely based on what was written in my file??? I think???
Anyway.
As he spoke the memories of the shooting came back and I felt-
Ashamed of how I felt from that.
I stabbed myself in the leg repeatedly with a pen to punish myself and then wrote on the walls in blood as I lost my mind, in the bathroom stall.
No one knew it was me though. I was afraid of being forced on medical leave and losing educational opportunities. I screamed. I had a meltdown.
Luckily people didn't fully understand why or I would have been humiliated
they thought it was due to my roommates being moved around in the dorms.
When my teacher told me he wanted me to see him shot - I felt
Picturing him dead as he told me he wanted me to see him shot in the head dead I felt
My memories of seeing people die in front of me came up and I felt-
Something that makes me feel like a creep. And I hate myself. And I'll never forgive myself.
I shouldn't feel that way about a teacher
It was all my fault
The more he told me stories of death and shootings the more flashbacks I had.
And the more my brain turned pain into pleasure.
And the more I fucking. Hated it. And myself.
Only to find out he was lying the entire time.
I tried distracting myself with olifactory methods
Oils
Herbs
Even sprays
Although one spray triggered a reaction in a lot of the class and everyone had to leave the classroom. I still feel really bad about that. It was a genuine accident! But even if it's an accident it's my responsibility to think. To know better. I loved my classmates. Even though I was a bit isolated from their social circle. And I felt really really bad about hurting them.
I think maybe someone even fainted?!
I later learned it was because I combined two different types of sprays that shouldn't go together... Oops.
I'm sorry. I was just trying to calm down. I just really was trying to learn to be normal in the world.
I'm sorry I failed.
