This has been the worst night in a long time. I had my first, very bad, therapy session, although I predicted it would happen eventually. I guess I was hoping that he was different than the stereotype; different than what I encountered when I was 16-17 years old. As I have been writing, I have experience some varying moods lately and I showed at his office, in what my buddy calls “Jacob” or a version thereof. A conversation about that, of course, once I came to, turned into being displeased with the world and myself. That turned into being a suicidal/homicidal maniac. His disposition is way too positive to come off that strong, but he did turn into a therapist and asked THOSE questions. I felt myself becoming overwhelmed. I felt the anger building and I told him that much, but he just kept going. I saw the worry in his face; a look that I have never seen him wear. I just had to tell him the truth and I know, deep down within me, that he has his doubts about the safety of my well-being and others. Well, Mr. Therapist, I am not suicidal and if I thought about fucking killing someone, it would not be some random bastard. I would go after someone I knows that has/does treat me like shit. Guess what, I’m a grown ass man and I don’t allow people to treat me unfairly or like shit from the moment I meet them so I don’t have to get revenge and kill anyone. I nip shit in the bud when people get out of line with me right then and there. WTF!!! Why does great things in my life always have to go south? Why do I have to answer stupid questions just because I’m not in my normal fucking mind? I just don’t get it. I just really want to be left alone and have companionship at the same time–I know that doesn’t make much sense, but nothing makes much sense to me at this point–things just keep going in a downward spiral for me.