Give In And We'll Do The Rest

Get out, get out, get out! These are the words I'm longing to speak forth... it builds inside me, swelling more with each passing moment. For years now I've suffered from night terrors as a side effect from the habitual narcotic use... add a pinch of mental illness and gently fold in some trauma. They usually range from my deeds and shortcomings and some of the things I've seen and experienced through this vicious whirl of life. Lately, they've been focused on biting and ripping the throats out of people that cause me a significant amount of stress... it's a limited list, and we're no longer accepting applications. Please speak to Management, Thank You. I'm not opposed to this one particular person suffering a horrible and extremely violent demise... actually, the thought makes my saliva run thick and the hairs stand on the back of my neck. It's the thought of me loosing control that is upsetting... one foot in front of the other. Once upon a time, I had some issues with controlling my anger... we aren't talking about fits and temper tantrums either. More along the lines of wrapping wire around someone's neck and telling them to say goodbye to all they love and hold precious in this world... at any rate, I had some issues. After much hard work and learning to identify the symptoms of me "checking out", I have this part of myself well under control... most of the time. When I'm confronted with strong emotions whether from myself or the people around me, my mind doesn't know how to process and analyze them properly. The building vibrations shake so violently inside, that I want to lash out and inflict serious harm to people... this isn't an option, so it must be kept in order. Back to my original point, the nightmares are upsetting because I can't lose control of myself and give in to those urges... I just can't. I don't know how or when I will be able to develop the courage to dismiss this person from my life... I can only pray that they die miserably or wind up in prison before I end up losing it or taking my own life. It sounds dramatic, I know. But imagine having to constantly watch out for someone trying to steal your belongings, invade your extremely limited privacy, having everything that is of value locked up behind several tamper proof locks, constantly on the lookout that no illegal substances are brought into the home, and finally, constantly worrying about upsetting the sociopath that has already made several threats against you. Yup, that's just a little more understandable... it's no wonder I'm in therapy three times a week.