Coupla things to respond to here.
@ Mr Gibson -- I am a student of computers, not of the mind. I prefer to tinker with things that can safely be turned off and back on again ;) namely technology. Also, I'm aware of the mess that is inpatient psychiatry, and I was not and would not be recommending that.
@ Lyberta -- I'll just say that I don't think it's any healthier to be wanting to kill other people than it is to be wanting to kill yourself. Somehow that doesn't fit my definition of 'normal'. But that's me -- and I don't want to, you know, tell you how to think. Not my job. So I'll drop this for now, except to say that pills can do you a world of good if you let them.
@ everyone -- sorry for the thread derailment. Not my intent.
On Mon, Apr 24, 2017 at 8:10 AM, Lyberta lyberta@lyberta.net wrote:
Luke Kenneth Casson Leighton:
i have a wise friend who very kindly gave me a definition of stress. he said it's when people make a comparison between the external (perceived) world and their internal view, cannot cope with the difference... and seek to blame the EXTERNAL world. "i hate your tie!! yesss... it's the *tie's* fault!" :)
When I was 10 or 11 years old, it became obvious to me that the only way from this hell is to kill my classmates and teachers. If I will kill myself, they will laugh at my corpse, if I will kill them, I will laugh at their corpses and their parents will be busy grieving to laugh at me. I will win. They will lose.
When I went to school I had to deal with classmates and teachers, when I went home I had to deal with my parents. The hell never ended, it never took a break. But I kept repeating "I will kill them, I will kill them". Every day. From dawn to dusk. And it became my only salvation, my only hope, my only purpose of life. With each day I was more determined. I've always wondered my no one else did this, it was so obvious. I didn't know about Columbine High massacre at that time.
And it was cast in stone. I'm killing them. But how to get a gun? Oh, that turned to be hard. But I understood, I am a terrorist now. I need to think and act as a terrorist. Any person can report myself to law enforcement. Everyone is my potential enemy. I need to never tell anyone any personally identifiable information, anything that can cast suspicion. I became very paranoid. Naturally, when I've found free software movement which promised software without malicious features, without surveillance, I immediately recognized its immense value to my mission.
As I grew older, my mental notebook of people I should kill has expanded exponentially. Now it contains several billions of people. The largest group being all religious people. And they've built a church near my home! I should thank them for building a murder scene solely for me, now I don't have a difficult choice of where to go on a killing spree.
But my brain had a very nasty surprise for me. I came out as transgender to myself. Now I also can be killed for simply being LGBT. I don't mind being killed after my killing spree because I'd have fulfilled my purpose of life, but I mind being killed for simply being LGBT. They will kill me and laugh at my corpse, just as if I'd kill myself. I will lose. I don't want to lose, I have people to kill.
If you are a terrorist, no one will see it until you take your gun out and start shooting. But if you are a guy in a dress, everyone will see it, all this homophobic and transphobic society, all those punks who hunt LGBT people for sport. I can't defend myself against a swarm without a gun. Heh, a gun, what a recurring theme.
And so I quit my job, I've tried to kill myself again, I ended up in psychiatric hospital. And they told me that I have a mental condition and need to take pills for the rest of my life. Of course, I never told anyone about wanting to kill people. I didn't want to lose.
But of course, no amount of pills will fix society so I kept being hospitalized every few months. And I've tried different doctors, different hospitals, paid and government funded. My family even needed to ask friends for money so I can go in a paid hospital. But all they could do is to give me pills. Fuckers.
But I never gave up. As long as I'm alive, I want to kill people. If I get a gun and go on a killing spree, I would be the life worth living.
And as I write this, I see how thousands of intelligence agencies' employees are carefully studying this letter, I see a police at my door, locking me up. But I don't care, I will end up in a psychiatric hospital again, for the countless time. I've spent years living in fear that police will find me, but in the end I was the one who asked to be found.
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