Nobody knows the trouble I've seen

My staggering amounts of simultaneous darkness&pain&self-confidence led me to viciously succumb to the illusion that a) I was a delusional two-faced megalomaniac and/or at times b) I was slaphappy with purely suicidal confidence, riding high with a devil-may-care grin at the Grim Reaper. Now, the latter may not have been entirely untrue. Flippantly saying "FUCK ALL" to my own cherished very life gave me courage in an utterly dark&sickened way -- in a way that said "Fuck you, I care more about retribution, about causing utter horrific pain in you you sick fucks, about saving my sister's life and sparing her of my own violent fate, more than about my own pain... my own life..." Like some manic Jesus story gone awry. Because if I don't even give a fuck about my own life, I have nothing to lose and that terrifies the predator. What a childhood.
But I was not a megalomaniac.
And I was not confident purely due to a self-sacrificial suicide high.
So neither assertion a) nor b) was perfectly true.

I felt like the spawn of Satan. I am the spawn of criminal sociopaths intoxicated with narcissism, solipsism, and pure carnal evil. I feel violated, violent, torn, manic, sorrowful, agonized, but above all, enamored with the beauty of the life-force in myself and the world. And simultaneously disgusted at the depravity around me. I have witnessed the spiral of the darkest evils in humans -- raging necrophiliac pedophiles and other nameless horrors. And I have come to understand the inception of perversion that evolves into such evils. [And so, darkness&pain&self-confidence.] But they have not infected me; I am my own person and my resolve never wavers. Merely my soaring&plunging, imbalanced, sense of self-perception: that wavers. But never my resolve.

In writing this, even, I am undergoing catharsis, shaking off the suicide high. Retaining the high, the slaphappy high, but healing at long last. I want to treasure my precious soul, to feel the trembling immediate, charming beauty of life, feel it all without the self-betrayal that has plagued my soul for aeons. The self-betrayal that led to self-mistrust that led to self-misperception. I am only now fully realizing the absolute existence of the suicide high that I have harboured in my soul as I write this, and it wears off. A sickening vertigo lifting.

But I know with certainty, at this moment, I was never a megalomaniac, never grandiose in my conception of myself. That was merely the pain speaking.

My darkness, my despair, my confidence, my deus ex machina.
And the beauty of it all is, those who see the beauty of this feeling that has been my salvation -- they are they ones worthy of experiencing the beauty. And those who cower at the darkness, they have chained their own souls. And my integrity is forever uncompromised.