i am sick

i like to sit here and pretend that im some cutesy sweet girl, but i truly am not. i have an addiction to gore. its crippling. i cannot take death seriously. it scares me to know that the pain of another is something that arouses me. its horrid. im a horrible person. the sick fantasies i crave are of my own design. i am not like this because of anyone besides myself. i like to say i dont care, but i do. i care deeply. i have no remorse or empathy for the lives i watch be taken. it amuses me at times. this is something i deem much worse on many levels than a p-rn or tech addiction. something i see on the same level as substance abuse and self harm. both things i also struggle with. one day i will witness a death in person, and there will be no empathy, just a sick mixture of arousal and amusement. i am not broken, but i am sick. i do not deserve empathy of another person because i do not have empathy for their life. there are three people i would truly care for if they died; my mother, my father, and my sister. its my belief that i am entering a depressive episode, and despite not being diagnosed bipolar in anyway, both of my maternal grandparents are, and i do have periods of extreme highs and lows. i know i refuse help. i dont believe i want to get better. i would never tell my therapist or my shrink. what will i do when i watch a friend get hurt? laugh? pleasure myself to it? should i sit here and deny that i do not want to be hurt the same way? i do. i wont deny that. why do i share this? i dont know. this is my void. i am mentally sick, and i dont know if theres a cure. i am desensitized to violence and blood. ive been toyched violently, if sparsely. i live seeing others hurt. i am sick of myself. sick of who i am. i am obsessive. i sit behind a computer screen or a phone screen, pretending to feel something other than neutrality, pretending that these things disgust me, but they dont. i cant understand why people hate it. i am upset. im smart. im supposed to understand everything. i cant even understand myself. my father says my emotions are illogical. i cant pinpoint anything. i think i get this from him. he is borderline sociopathic. i think he is a sociopath. hes an emotional vagrant. he doesnt cry, but i know most dads dont i think. he cant understand when i do cry, because i do have feelings despite my wall of neutrality. i think i feel. sometimes i sob and cry just to get my way. i have frequent panic attacks. sometimes as frequent as 1-2 times a week and as little to once a month. i dont think i fake my emotions, but besides my extremes theres nothing. do you feel different constantly? why is this so frustrating. i cannot empathize with your death or your hurt. ice been sent pictures of self harm and i cannot deny that it has the same effect of gore. i am sick. what causes this? please how am i supposed to live like this? why am i like this? i want to watch people bleed and sob and hurt, but its wrong right? why is it wrong? i dont get it. why do you have these dumb ass morals? you dont make any sense.