I fucking hate my borderline personality disorder!!!

Two roads split in the woods,

  I took the one less traveled by others, 

Now I’m wondering where the hell am I?

I remember as a teen I once tried to explain to an officer ‘what my problem was’, but I couldn’t put into words the chaos that was driving around in circles in my mind. I’m still not sure I can explain it to people who have never experienced intrusive thoughts. It’s similar to being in a room full of people, each one with their own thoughts and ideas, right or wrong, speaking rapidly, and I have to decide which voice I obey.

My latest thoughts involved the death of many people. One by one, going door to door, leaving no one standing until the entire block is clear. I see the images, the blood, the look of shock on their faces, puzzlement, wondering why. Don’t ask me, I still don’t know why. It just has to be done.

I’m a weak person, so many times I listen to the wrong voice. Tell me what I’m living for.

When the thoughts become louder than usual, I have to get out. This is when I spend most of my time driving around in my circles, playing music loud enough to drown out all the noise in my head. People sometimes look at me crazy when I pull up next to them and my music is vibrating their car windows. But I don’t care what they think, it’s the only way to drown out all the other voices.

At least I’ve figured out an early warning signal that I get right before I’m about to experience violent intrusive thoughts. It can happen anywhere or at anytime, depending on the odors around me, but certain things that I smell impact my thought process. The stronger the odor the stronger my response. Sometimes it can be pleasant at first, like when I was shopping at Wal-Mart the other day, I walked past this average looking guy who had on some wonderful smelling cologne, which set off my intrusive thoughts. The next thing I realize, I’m stalking this guy just to smell him, and I’m dreaming about having sex with him. Then suddenly my mind shifts and I go from wanting to have sex with him, to wanting to take his life slowly. My mind then fears that I might suddenly act out some sexually inappropriate behavior right there in the middle of the floor in Wal-Mart, so I have to quickly get away from him.

Then there are the times when I smell something that isn’t pleasant, like the exhaust from my car sitting in the garage. My mind will sometimes tell me to just sit there with the engine running, without opening the garage door, and just let things happen. First though I might go out and smash my car into as many things as I can, and then come home and close the garage tightly down around me.