My mind can be a scary place. I can get... urges. I was lucky enough to be born into a family that has the wealth and connections to get me the therapies that I needed at a young age to understand and control them, maybe even channel them towards something constructive sometimes, but that doesn't make the urges any less terrifying. The scent of rotting meat kicks my prey instinct into overdrive, and I feel an urge to bite, crush, kill. The sight of an animal on the brink of death makes it worse. Nothing is unappetizing when that urge is strong.

Now, I've never had these urges directed towards any human before. I actually find it difficult to hate even those who have wronged me personally. Unfortunately, that inability to hate doesn't stem from a sense of compassion, at least not always. I pity pedophiles because they weren't lucky as I was to be able to have the tools to control themselves all the time. I empathize with serial killers because a part of me understands addiction and the despair that comes from a lack of control.

There's a darkness in me. I make light of it, but everyone around me can see it. It's not obvious, but everyone is at least a little creeped out by me. It doesn't help that I wasn't born with the ability to parse or utilize body language or vocal tonality. I had to learn them, and I still get them wrong all the time. I smile with too few or too many muscles, or make the wrong face shape altogether. Or I use the wrong voice for the situation. Usually it's small and easily corrected, but it gets exhausting.

I'm intelligent and learned enough to know that I still feel emotions at least close to normal, and I empathize normally enough with living humans, but it comes out strange sometimes.

There's... part of me that's worried what might happen if I ever relax too much. The last time that happened, I lost my entire friend group. I said the wrong thing too candidly and made everyone feel super unsafe.

I'm tired. I want to stop having to try to suppress these urges all of the time, but I'm way too scared of what might come out to relax. So I turn towards thoughts of suicide. I hate myself so much, even aside from my fears about myself. It would be so easy... but I know better. The people in my life who are still here and still care would have to deal with the fallout, and it wouldn't be fair. I could try for the military, but I know that I'm worse than useless in a fight, and would crack under the pressure after the first week of boot camp.

I have outlets, but they don't pay the bills yet, and I don't always have the time for them. Right now is one of those corners of my life where there's just not enough space. I think I'll get through it, but it's... dark, sometimes.