Every bone in my body aches.  It has been two years since a diagnosis of ASPD was made regarding my personality.  In that time – initially skeptical of such a diagnosis but since coming to accept its validity – I have made efforts to show restraint to bring order into a life of chaos.  I’ve mellowed my antisocial ways, trying on various cadavers in order to stay in the good graces of society and those around me and to no longer tempt fate in the ways I once did.  At what cost though?  Am I slowly killing myself in order to avoid what may never be?

I feel impotent.  I want to lash out and torch something, someone.  The world burns so brightly and so loudly that I am overloaded with the static that grates on me day in and day out.  I want to assert my dominance and I want to silence the cacophony that rages around me.  I am irritable.  I don’t want to turn the other cheek but rather retaliate with a force so unholy and so overpowering that those irritants around me think twice before ever crossing me again.  I need peace through violence.

And so I feel weaker by the day, as I am surrounded by those that should be silenced and am lacking the will to take what should be mine.  I’ve vowed restraint but at the cost of my mortal will.  I grow older, no longer a force of fear but one of decrepit paralysis.  What am I doing?  Am I saving myself from the brink that eluded me for 27 years or am I throwing myself into another dug from different dirt?  I feel impotent.  Every bone in my body aches.  Am I slowly killing myself in order to avoid what may never be?  What good is restraint if the life left in its wake is so melancholy?

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