setsuna
January 13th, 2014, 09:17 PM
My fight with my friend last night brought forth a lot of questions. Mainly: Is my friend right? Will my anger be my ultimate downfall?
I think I need to tell you all about my past...
I never had a good relationship with my brother. And by that, I mean that I REALLY didn't have a good relationship with my brother. I was an oversensitive, whiny crybaby when I was younger. I was introverted. My brother was an extroverted, leadership-oriented person. This didn't mesh well. Ultimately, I found myself wishing that he would die. Our relationship is better nowadays, however.
When I was in grade 5, I had my first serious case of OCD. I was obsessed with these unhappy, traumatized fictional characters. I started ACTING like those characters as compulsions. My parents never knew what exactly went wrong, and they assumed that it was some sort of religious force that possessed me. To this day, I ask myself "why didn't they see the signs? Why was I the one who had to point out to them that it might be OCD?"
Ever since grade 5 I've been filled with self destructive tendencies.
In grade 7, my OCD struck again, for two years. My parents again didn't know what was going on, and thought that I was just a lazy ass whenever I didn't get good marks at school, even though I really couldn't concentrate because of OCD.
Throughout a good part of elementary school, I had one consistent friend. He grew up in a pretty broken household; his parents were divorced and his brother has Down Syndrome.
When I was in grade 10, I began feeling INCREDIBLY guilty about how that same friend became suicidal. I felt like I wasn't there for him. It took about two years to realize that I couldn't have THAT much of a negative influence on one person, especially at that age.
Furthermore, in grade 10, I developed the obsession that if I didn't do well in school, I will kill someone in my job in the future. I wasted so much time and energy working obsessively hard in that grade.
Also in grade 10, I became suicidal because of my OCD.
When I was in grade 11, I thought, for one or two months, that I was a child molester, because of OCD. I actively seeked punishment for what I thought I did.
The same obsession outlined above, about child molestation, returned during the summer after grade 11.
OCD to this day bites me in the ass.
But does all this warrant such extreme anger against the world? I don't get it. My anger has been my main emotion for so long. It's been what's driving me. And if my friend is right, and if I'm incapable of feeling any other emotion other than sadness, then maybe I don't deserve to live.
I think I need to tell you all about my past...
I never had a good relationship with my brother. And by that, I mean that I REALLY didn't have a good relationship with my brother. I was an oversensitive, whiny crybaby when I was younger. I was introverted. My brother was an extroverted, leadership-oriented person. This didn't mesh well. Ultimately, I found myself wishing that he would die. Our relationship is better nowadays, however.
When I was in grade 5, I had my first serious case of OCD. I was obsessed with these unhappy, traumatized fictional characters. I started ACTING like those characters as compulsions. My parents never knew what exactly went wrong, and they assumed that it was some sort of religious force that possessed me. To this day, I ask myself "why didn't they see the signs? Why was I the one who had to point out to them that it might be OCD?"
Ever since grade 5 I've been filled with self destructive tendencies.
In grade 7, my OCD struck again, for two years. My parents again didn't know what was going on, and thought that I was just a lazy ass whenever I didn't get good marks at school, even though I really couldn't concentrate because of OCD.
Throughout a good part of elementary school, I had one consistent friend. He grew up in a pretty broken household; his parents were divorced and his brother has Down Syndrome.
When I was in grade 10, I began feeling INCREDIBLY guilty about how that same friend became suicidal. I felt like I wasn't there for him. It took about two years to realize that I couldn't have THAT much of a negative influence on one person, especially at that age.
Furthermore, in grade 10, I developed the obsession that if I didn't do well in school, I will kill someone in my job in the future. I wasted so much time and energy working obsessively hard in that grade.
Also in grade 10, I became suicidal because of my OCD.
When I was in grade 11, I thought, for one or two months, that I was a child molester, because of OCD. I actively seeked punishment for what I thought I did.
The same obsession outlined above, about child molestation, returned during the summer after grade 11.
OCD to this day bites me in the ass.
But does all this warrant such extreme anger against the world? I don't get it. My anger has been my main emotion for so long. It's been what's driving me. And if my friend is right, and if I'm incapable of feeling any other emotion other than sadness, then maybe I don't deserve to live.