“Fuckingshit” And “God” Battle

Author: Cassandra

I’ve been thinking about something for a while, and I think I finally understand a bit more about how I work.

I seriously think I have some problems. (And no fuck therapy, it won’t solve my identity crisis.)

I have something that I would call chronic lying. The lying is deliberate , instrumental, coordinated, coherent. Sometimes I lie because I want something. Sometimes I lie because I want to avoid something. Sometimes I lie because I want to mislead someone. And sometimes I just lie because I lied.

For example, let’s hypothetically say that my father was a pedophile with criminal records. Of course people are going to see me differently if they know that, so sometimes I manipulate that. I can use information I collected somewhere else and make myself look like I came from there, that I did this and that, that my parents work this and that. And I’m sitting there thinking: why would you lie? Why? I don’t know. I just did it.
I just did it, and that’s it.

And I’ve been doing this since I was a kid.

I remember lying about stupid shit because I hated tomatoes and my parents wanted me to eat them. So I would make up some shit that was so believable that you couldn’t deny it. Like, no, I’m proficient since childhood thanks to my lovely environment.

Then there is stealing.

I have chronic ideas of stealing, and sometimes I steal, even if the thing is so little that you could say it doesn’t even matter. But I still consider it stealing. When I was a kid, I did it way more (with stores, supermarkets, mom’s wallet of course, my friends’s bags ). Now I’m more like, consciously thinking it over and over (whether they deserve it or not lol) before stealing anything.

But the weird thing is that I don’t necessarily see these negative opportunities as negative.

I call them opportunities because from my point of view they’re an opportunity for an adventure.

If I have an opportunity, I just take it.

And by opportunity I don’t mean something positive. I mean negative shit. Something forbidden, something risky, something I probably shouldn’t do. But it’s interesting. It’s an adventure.

And that’s where religion comes in.(fuck my religion and my logic.)

My environment is just super lucky that I believe in God.

If I didn’t, I would have probably killed my mother because she’s annoying and she hurted me in my childhood and teen years so she deserves it. Then i fantasiesed about abandoning my siblings because they’re annoying and I’m the eldestso i rule once she is taken care of. I would get financially stable and abandon whoever I don’t give a fuck about anymore. I wouldn’t even visit my family ,I would rather spend my time somewhere else, in a bar or something, flirting, having sex and having fun with people around.

But I didn’t do that.

Not because I suddenly became a saint.

I believe God exists.

I actually tried to find out whether my religion was real or just a myth because I wanted a reason to quit. I had uncertainty. I researched it. And then I found myself thinking, no, actually, there is a God.

And if God exists, then whatever I do is going to impact me.

So I might as well give up some adventures for the sake of God.

It’s not even exactly “the religion” anymore. It’s the fact that I believe God exists and I don’t want to hurt myself.

If I do something bad, something is going to come back to me. If I do too much bad shit, I’m going to hell. And I don’t want to go to hell.

I once literally put my hand over fire and thought: okay, I can’t fucking handle this. And if that’s even remotely comparable to what Hell is supposed to be, then no. We cannot really bear this.

Then I once burned myself with boiling sugar and the burning sensation stayed for more than 48 hours.

That told me, really, and I insist on that word, really, that I can’t handle Hell.

So that’s where I started backing away from stealing and from lies that would actually hurt people.

I still have the desires.

I just don’t give myself permission to act on all of them.

And that’s where Cassandra comes in.

I would actually call myself more of a slave than a human sometimes.

Cassandra controls Susie.

Susie can desire whatever she wants. She can think whatever she wants. She can be curious about whatever she wants.

But Cassandra will still tell her exactly what she can do and what she cannot do.

Cassandra will impose on Susie certain acts of humanity, because that’s what we should be doing. But i still fuck shit up. Thought I would not go too far with it.

And sometimes I think maybe these tendencies are some kind of flaw God created in me to see whether I’m going to go with my flaw or betray it and try to be somewhat more human.

Maybe these tendencies would disappear if I went to Paradise.

Maybe.

Who knows?

Because I still have violence.

And when I cannot take it out on others, I take it on myself.

That’s actually one of the things I’m struggling with.

Because if I’m hurting someone else, obviously I can tell myself that’s wrong.

But if I’m hurting myself?

It’s me.

I’m implicating me.

So why should God get involvedwith that?

If the body is something entrusted to me, then “I’m only hurting myself” doesn’t really solve anything.

And yet I still find myself thinking that it’s better to act on myself than on other people.

I don’t know.

Maybe that’s another thing Cassandra has to control.

The other thing I’ve noticed is attachment.

If I like someone, I can get severely attached to them.

And I mean severely.

Last year, there was a girl I was friends with, and I would know every fucking little detail about her. Her brother, her mother, her father, everything about her life, her routine, who she’s friends with, her manipulative side as well, because that’s why I liked her.

I was fascinated by her.

I became so attached that I started having thoughts about her that completely surprised me. Things I had never thought about before. Things that didn’t fit with how I saw myself. I would imagine having “Gay sex with her ” or to imagine her naked even though I’m 100% straight. And only fuck with masculin, weirdly good guys.

And that’s when I realized how obsessed I actually was.

But here’s the weird part.

If I decide I need to distance myself from someone, I’m 100% distancing myself.

I completely cut them off.

I don’t even think that much about how they’ll feel. I’m like, no, they’ll get over it. That’s it.

And I move on.

Then unintentionally, I find myself attracted to another person intensely.

And the same fucking pattern starts again.

So maybe I have BPD. Maybe I have ASPD. Maybe I don’t.

I don’t know.

What I know is that there are certain patterns in me that I’ve been seeing since I was a child.

Lying.

Stealing.

Violence.

Self-harm.

Attachment.

Obsession.

Curiosity about fucked-up things.

And this constant desire to search for problems.

I’ve been doing that since I was twelve or thirteen. Always online looking for problems. I even joined gangs that stole money, but I wouldn’t steal with them.

And that’s where I think my religion stops me.

Or maybe not religion.

God.

Because I believe He’s real.

And I know that I have desires I could probably follow if I allowed myself to.

But I don’t.

Not because the desires aren’t there.

Because Cassandra still controls Susie.

And maybe that’s what being human is.

I don’t know.

Maybe I’m just a slave to rules I decided were worth obeying.

Maybe I’m lucky.

Maybe everyone around me is lucky that I believe in God.

Or maybe I’m lucky that I was given something strong enough to make me stop myself.

Either way, I’m still here.

And I still have all the fucking thoughts.

I just don’t let all of them become actions.

It doesn’t satisfy me or make me happy in any way that I’m believing in God. It’s just something I know that ignoring will just have consequences, but I can’t do that.

(When I burnt my hand with boiling sugar, I know it was a stupid idea, but the way my skin was all bubbly, the way the blood came out, the way I saw myself, like almost melting maybe, the pain, everything was super intense that it left some kind of mark in my life.)

And yes, I hate that I’m conscious and that I can think logically. That’s something I hate. That’s something uncontrollable, but I hate having it, because it just gives me unnecessary morals from my own point of view.

And a lot of times I end up trying to shift the tension I have for experiments into other stuff, like my studies, etc. So I would fill in the void of these desires.

And yes, call me edgy, call me whatever. By the way, me believing in God did stop me from killing, but it never takes off the desires.

And yes, it’s towards people that actually harmed me. Even though they don’t do it anymore, I still have the idea. I still remember how I had this plan on killing my mother.

And yes, it sounds edgy, it sounds weird maybe. I don’t know how it sounds, really, because I’m not you.But whoever you are, when you have this kind of dedication to making a whole fucking plan, it’s really fucking hard to back away from it.

So, yeah.

Fuck this bitch ass post, lol.