#homocidal ideation

[misanthropic-angel0]

“my dreams are just dreams”

[daintydolldiary]

M almost always imagining a bloody murder scene made beautifully by me. Doll wants to be the cause of it all! I'd be so cutesy giving into my homocidal thoughts, don't you think?

[actuallyverynormalbtw]

My therapist says there’s nothing wrong with my violent fantasies and they actually make sense with all that I’ve been through:3

[demonhuntingcaterpillar]

It’s called growth.

[phosphenemoth]

I literally want to sleep outside just so no one else will acknowledge me tonight. Don't even fucking look at me. I don't exist. Leave my energy alone. All of these people are killing fucking me and I want to return the favor and for all of them to die.

[ionizingdotjpeg]

yap yap yap we get it your gay and mentally ill get in line buddy

[tou-loser2]

I'm not suicidal. I'm homicidal but I can't kill people in my class so I take it out on myself in order to not get in trouble from teachers or parents or the cops.

[the-chaos-goose]

Vent. Warnings are as follows

S/H, derealization, suicidal ideation, child neglect, child abuse, homocidal ideation

I relapsed again. Whoo. On my fucking wrist. It’s easy to hide but gods im mad that I managed it

The urge has been killing me though. That and suicidal ideation that doesn’t even make sense. I’m happy. I’m in a good place with my life, Ik what I wanna do, I’m eating mostly ok for once, and I’m not exactly dying. But at the same time I’ve just. Craved death? Idk

I’m half blaming my chronic derealization and how constantly tired of both people and being awake I am. I’m dealing with somnophobia that literally leaves me too scared to sleep. Like, my heart races when I get tired. And it’s bc my dreams cause me to derealize severely until I panic when I’m awake and feel sick the whole time. It doesn’t matter the dream, but once I wake up I’m just sick. Sick to my stomach and scared

also guess who’s stuck dealing with the emotional bullshittery of their parents neglect and abuse again? Meeee

gods I hate listening to a man’s pathetic temper tantrum after I go another day having not eaten anything besides lunchables and maybe leftovers. He thinks he has it so bad with the “shit birds” messing up his stuff when I don’t remember last time he even asked if I was ok. Gods. And he’s taken to screaming at me again! And telling me to eat expired food, again!!! Gods I want to kill him. And tbh? If I wasn’t shit at planning, and unwilling to cause anyone grief, I fucking would. Too bad morals are a thing I do indeed have! Huh? Idk man, after he and my brother have put me through, I want to stab their guts out and rip their eyes out of the sockets. Speaking of my brother, he got a new fucking PS5! Y’hear that? A NEW. PS. 5. gods I love watching him get spoiled half to death

AND HE GOT A TARANTULA

HE HAS A SNAKE, HAD SOME FISH, AND SOME RATS, AND NOW THIS??? GODS. HES SO FUCKING SPOILED AND IT MAKES ME WANNA END MYSELF IN FRONT OF MY PARENTS TO MAKE SURE THEY KNOW HOW MUCH THEY’VE RUINED ME. GODS. GODS ON EARTH. I WANT THEM DEAD. I WANT THIS FAMILY DEAD.

idk man. I’m just sick of living like this

where I’ve been trying day in and day out to get my shitty Chromebook fixed when my brother is a spoiled able-bodied asshole. I’m tired. I’m tired of living. I’m gonna keep going, the whole “I don’t wanna cause anyone grief” thing is there. But gods I just wanna leave this part of my life behind and at the very least time-skip to where I’m actually in a good place.

[j-chineseenglishdidstuff]

What if I feel even worse than this, and we know that systems hate Split for good reason

I know violence doesn’t solve problems but a little stabbing couldn’t hurt right?

Just a tiny bit?

A slightly aggressive poke?

[boyswillbedogz]

gorey werewolf movie recs? trying to scratch a particular itch

[moshpit-sys]

x

[misanthropic-angel0]

my psychiatrist told me i should use coping skills in response to me telling her about my homicidal thoughts. i couldn’t help but laugh. ☠️. i hate psychiatrists

[daintydolldiary]

Dolly is going to fucking murder somebody!

If I can't hurt myself what the fuck can I hurt? Can I kill someone? Please! Tell me I can tear into someone till their screams stop.

Dolly won't stop clawing and ripping at the body with its blood drenched hands till the blood stops pumping, the flesh is cold, and skin pale.

Doll WANTS to kill, to hear the screams, cries, pleas, I wanna see the person face contort into nasty shapes! Doll thinks watching death is such a gorgeous sight!

I think that's a big difference between me n a lot of other people, Dolly wants to kill, just knows it's not supposed to, so it doesn't. Other people typically don't WANT to kill people so don't. But I REALLLY want to! Oh it'd be amazing!!!

[justatorturedpoet]

Lately I have more people I'd like to kill that I'd like to hug

[nevermore-grimes]

I always see attachment issues in the “Oh nooo, please don’t leave me, I’ll get super sad!” sense, and like, that’s valid.

I just don’t know where I went wrong to end up with the “If you even so much as conceive the idea of walking out on me, I’ll slit your throat and leave you to die on the cold, hard tile, you heartless monster!” attachment issues instead.

…Is that even a thing? Is that just me? I dunno.

[music-shelter-wilderness]

Premeditated

its easy to write off:

you never actually—

you know.

you never did it.

that’s what everyone says.

like I haven’t got the blood stains to scrub,

I’m tied up in knots about an imaginary rope.

I think people have the wrong idea of how it works.

I remember it vividly:

the transformation into a wild hunting animal.

—sure, it was for survival,

people tell me that too—

I was working up to the taste of blood.

when you have no choice but to kill

you grow a stomach for killing.

we don’t call all of them murders,

but there is always blood,

there are always two animals,

and at least one stops fighting.

I never finished growing that stomach,

that’s the difference.

it remains caged by the abandoned hunts.

there’s one I don’t have to imagine all that much:

—biting down on the windpipe,

holding a life in my mouth

in a threat to snuff it out—

releasing my jaw when the prey struggled

what I do believe in is letting go—

fuck, but the flood of relief when I let go.

I’m still trying to let go.