A guide to my rooms

Walk into my mind.
Amidst all the confusion and chaos you will find a steel door. It's old and rusting but the latch still holds tight.
Many people have stood at this door asking to be let in.
They wait and wait and it grows cold outside and they leave - it's not worth their time.
But you stayed. So I will show you what is here.
You find a long hallway - full of debris and dust.
On each side are three doors. They all look the same - plain, wooden.
Yet on the other side - the rooms are extremely different.
Open the first door - you can barely see into the darkness.
The walls are painted a muted grey, and the floor is coarse, black carpet.
There is a small, dim lamp that sits next to a broken mirror.
This is all.
You notice almost a peace in this room; it feels like home.
I spend most of my days here. I just lie on the carpet. Sometimes I close my eyes and dream of being in a different room, but I know I belong here.
The door is unlocked, but I cannot leave - some days I do not want to.
You wander around the room, feeling it's death surround you.
In this room I am in pieces. Bloodied. Dying. I am the reflection in the broken glass.
You will find a door leading to the second room.
In this room it is always raining - a torrential downpour.
Water comes up to your knees.
On the grey-blue walls are smeared paintings of my grandfather, of things I have failed to do, of the people I have hurt.
In this room I am a monster. In this room I am evil and twisted - intent on injuring everyone I meet.
At once you feel the heavy burden. It is almost unbearable.
I have tried to drown myself in the water many times, but nothing relieves the pain.
This is my home as well. If I am not in the first room, I am here - carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders.
You run out of this room, afraid you might die from the pressure. You flee, catching your breath, only to run...
Into a grotesque, morbid room where there is a constant circus of torture.
Those who have hurt me, those who have hurt others are being mutilated before your eyes. You desperately try to free them, but when you try, you are burned.
You see a list of those who will receive my punishment - your name is on the list with several grievances attached; long past, but I keep them ready, to scorn you with if needed.
Here I am Mr. Hyde. I am Jack the Ripper. I am Albert Fish. I am Jeffrey Dahmer.
I delight in the pain of others. I burn with anger.
When I am here, the door locks behind me. I am hell bent and will not leave until I have cleansed humanity of it's filth.
You escape this room.
Back in the hallway, you are unsure if you want to see anything else.
But you have seen me love and seen me care. Where are these rooms? They must be here.
So you enter the first room on the other side of the hall.
It is decorated like a child's room.
There are many toys - Lincoln Logs, dolls, stuffed animals, childrens' books.
The walls are yellow with drawings of elephants and giraffes.
You recognize the safety here - that nothing will happen.
Then you notice a little girl.
She is playing with the toys alone, but seems to be having a marvelous time.
You pick her up and ask her name - "Lil' Ria" is the reply.
She is beautiful and happy and care free. She wants you to play with her.
But you must go, there are other rooms to see.
She begs you to stay. She needs someone there to love her. She needs a friend, a playmate.
You tell her you'll come back. She believes you.
The second room on the left leads to a field. There are many animals running free. A swing set, a river, a carousel, an ice cream parlor, constantly ripe strawberries. All the things I love.
I run through the field in a white dress that flows behind me.
I am beautiful - perfect. I have no flaws.
You play with the animals, eat ice cream, ride the carousel. You know this is what paradise is.
You never want to leave. You want me to always be like this.
There are two people in the last room - it's us.
You watch us make cookies together, watch movies together, cuddle.
You see how at ease I am.
I am natural.
I am complete.
You have given me everything.

My mind is a variety show. I cannot tell from day to day what room I will be in.
Can you handle this mind?
Will you handle this mind?