I’ve had a painful, confronting session with my psychiatrist. Which is good, it has to hurt to heal. But it was still painful and confronting nevertheless. It was about weakness, and my issue with it. There is an awkward bipolarity inside me that separates dominance from submission, wanting to hurt from wanting to be cared for, narcissism from pathologically low self esteem.
I am a power-hungry, evil-natured woman who enjoys to hurt people both physically and mentally. I rather demand respect and inspire fear than love or affection, and I like it that way. I think I am justified to hurt others because they are weak. This is not a guise or mask, I truly and thoroughly enjoy my sadist acts and often ponder over taking them to the next level.
I am a sad, broken person who wants nothing more than to be appreciated, heard, cared for. I am weak, weak, weak, weak. My character is despicably, embarrassingly weak. All I want is to crawl up in a corner and have someone else take care for me like I’m a totally handicapped and retarded person.
It hurt. I’m embarrassed about this. Usually I get so angry, so incredibly angry at people when they show weakness, or tolerate weakness. and it’s so incredibly hypocritical, because deep inside I want nothing more than to be cared for, to be pampered, to be accepted and to be relieved of all responsibilities.
It’s non-compatible with what I am, while it is what I am as well. It makes me feel sick. It’s so… there is no way I can completely oversee the repercussions of this. I wanted to hit my psychiatrist because she had that smug smile, you know what I mean? That smug smile of someone in charge. I cannot accept authority, I am above rules!
I try to find reason, a pattern, anything. But I’m just lost and so ashamed that I can’t believe I’m actually blogging about this.
Psychotically yours, QP