A pastor once told me that I am a demon.
Yes I am. Who would have such thoughts.
Thoughts that I would hurt my children like how I had been hurt. I don't want. I don't want them to have mental illness. i don't want them to go through what I am going through.
I am afraid. I am afraid that one day I would lose control of myself again like how i did. Like how i lose control of my yearnings and let myself be bang around like a *****. No, more than just a *****.
Everyone said i brought that to myself. that I didn't control myself enough. No one believe me when I said I was overwhelmed by my yearnings.
NO! No one can help me. No one can protect me from myself. Please, let me die before I can hurt my precious ones. I am too coward to **** myself. I hate me.
I envy those who lives in the luxury of having a good life, able to learn what they want, do what they want, not having to fight with themselves. Everything is at their disposal. A woman who has a loving husband. A husband who has a capable wife. Children who has parents that earn enough for them to learn whatever they want, parents that has the ability and knowledge to guide their children in leading a successful life. I hate them, because i can't. I can't give my children what they deserve.
My existence is the proof that Satan exist.