I wrote this closer to when I started this blog(Feb 2015). I wanted to share it because I still have these thoughts and they are just that. Thoughts. I couldn’t write a new entry today due to not being able to concentrate for long.
When I am having a difficult day and there seems to be no escape from the memories and emotional/physical triggers I sometimes sink into dark fantasies. Sometimes I write about them and I used to write short stories as a teen. I fantasize that I am a serial killer, a vigilante that tracks down people to abuse children/rape and remove them from the world. My methods for removal are often violent and some of these thoughts are disturbing as I really enjoy this fantasy.
I would see myself as some sort of dark super hero but in reality I was ashamed of this. I am not ashamed now of this way to cope but I fear sometimes that it is too enticing. I stop myself from tracking down my abusers. I stop myself from searching out sex offenders. It is an urge I have to put the fantasy into play in a real sense. I do not consider myself a violent person but I know that I am perfectly capable of carrying things out once my brain starts cooking on an idea.
The healthy thing is that I wrote about it instead of acting it out. That says a lot to me about myself. Even though I made a kill list and I even planned out a few murders and methods of torture in great detail, I have no plans to carry any of it out no matter how tempting it may be. Sometimes when I am triggered I go to these fantasies to then rewrite the end of the memory to have my dark superhero self come save the day and kill my abuser on the spot.
As far as some future abuse, I don’t trust myself to not fight to the death with the intention being that the person attempting to rape me will die. I don’t feel bad about this and its just a fact. I will in the very least permanently damage someone who tries to rape me. Eyeballs and ballsacks are my targets should this happen. They will come at me walking or running, but if not die, they will limp away holding various places where their parts once were.
When I write about these things I can feel a change in myself. I start to dissociate a bit, the feelings I normally have of compassion and empathy are nonexistent.
I have considered taking certain classes to learn how to fight with a knife or some sort of hand to hand combat further than the self defense classes I have taken in the past. I find myself during strength training being proud of how strong I am becoming in order to fight someone off and become extremely self reliant.
I plan to talk with my therapist more about this to help understand this but to also talk about it instead of pursuing some sort of behavior or course of action that will negatively impact my life or that of my family. I feel like I need to keep these feelings in check or lack of feeling at times because its scary to me. Fear seems to drive many things and maybe its unreasonable fears. It could be the fear is preventing me to really accept this side of myself and what I’m capable of. Everyone has thoughts like this, I’m told.
Maybe this is something I need to explore further in my art and videos. Some sort of expression of these feelings and urges can be put to better use in creative ways to be shared with others instead of acting out the violent thoughts in real life.
I want to be clear to say that I do not have a fear of murdering someone. I have a fear of fucking up my life/losing my freedom and hurting my family. I don’t believe removing these people from the planet to be a bad idea. They ruin lives and even though they may have been abused, I cannot fathom in my mind the justification of hurting a child or raping someone and then being allowed to go on with their lives while the victim is left in shambles and shamed into silence.