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Poet Introduction
A monster I am, consumed by fear and hate, created by people. Always, I am rejected and hurt by them. My fear of them has turned to hatred for what they have done to me. My only hope is a world without people and the painful memories that I have of them.
About Me
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Refugee from reality
Outcast of society
Victim of conformity
Fugitive from normality
Verdict of inferiority
Enemy of superficiality
Misfit I will always be
[left] I suffer severely from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD), a scourge of unremitting thoughts that never cease. Thoughts of horrific violence and hate, paralyzing and extremely irrational worries, very unrealistic and unfathomable beliefs, and constant, terrifying fears. My OCD has presented me with a lifetime pass to a non-stop carnival of nightmarish abnormalities, like the inability to love or to trust; to crack even a hint of a smile or to conjure up anything remotely resembling the sound of laughter are both well beyond what my dreams can capture. I am immune to the pleasures of life. Simply put, I am permanently isolated from any and all such experiences. I have absolutely crippling comprehension problems and cannot summarize anything that I see, hear or read. I possess the full social skill set of that of a telephone pole. A walking encyclopedia of facts and statistics I am, marching in step with my ultra-sensitive feelings. So intensely felt are my feelings that I explode internally into screams just to cope. Incessantly I am feasted on by my feelings. As a result, I am very prone to emotional and mental overloads and long shutdowns. I am inept at conversation and without expression. When I can converse, I only know how to talk about and explain my feelings. That, as well as being nonjudgmental, non-materialistic and non-superficial, serve only to further alienate me from a world that can't relate to a freak like myself. I am highly analytical, systematic, intelligent and have a nearly perfect sense of logical thinking, all of which are rendered totally useless by my perfectionism, comprehension issues, and my ever destructive parasitic feelings. Strangely enough, I am unable to forget anything, and I do mean anything. It would seem that I am forever cursed to remember everything. A prison within a prison, as there is no escape for me through forgetting bad times, hurts or past regrets. Regret is always the special of the day and the only thing on life's daily menu. I ooze negativity from every pore like the monster that I am, completely consumed by bitterness and hatred. Self-acceptance is not possible. I am a thrall to my thoughts and feelings. It is the banner that I must always carry into endless battle, for it defines who I am. Hopeless, helpless, I am a serial victim of OCD. Perhaps far more damaging than OCD is a condition that my therapist calls lack of exposure. The best way that I can describe lack of exposure is by using an example of someone being in a coma from age twelve to age twenty seven. Crucial life skills are learned during that time. The most important developmental stage in life, and I was literally absent for all of it. I am now learning and trying to experience all of the things that people would normally learn and experience in life during those early teenage years through their mid- twenties. I can't ever get that time back. I must now live in a world with people without any of the preparation sorely needed to do so, but I know that it is way too late for me as the damage has already been done. It has been suggested that it would be helpful for me to somehow channel my thoughts and feelings into poetry or something. I do enjoy reading poetry, even though I am a terrible writer. In fact, I am terrible at everything that I do and equally terrible at everything that I don't do.
Some of my problematic beliefs that I am incapable of disbelieving:
All problems are created by people
All problems are solved by money or violence or suicide but always in that order
Money solves any and all problems given enough money
Violence eliminates the person or persons creating the problem should there be no money or not enough money to solve the problem
Suicide removes the person being affected by the problem should violence not be attempted or fail for any reason
Hate is the new love
Everything is a scam
Employers are terrorists
Less laws, more punishment
Home is where the horror is
Terrorists should be crucified
Crucifixion is the only justice
Aggressive drivers are terrorists
There's no place like a peopleless planet
The present is the past; the future is the past
First impressions mean nothing; last impressions mean everything
People who text or talk on the phone while driving are murderers who haven't been convicted yet
The only thing there is to fear is people
Everything happens for a reason: a bad reason
Women are only good for one thing: hurting me
Good things come to those who wait; I am still waiting for something good to come
All good things must come to an end while all bad things must go on forever
Whatever doesn't kill you destroys your life so badly that you wish it had killed you
God helps those who help themselves, and since I can't help myself, I guess that's why He hasn't helped me[/left]
Outcast of society
Victim of conformity
Fugitive from normality
Verdict of inferiority
Enemy of superficiality
Misfit I will always be
[left] I suffer severely from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD), a scourge of unremitting thoughts that never cease. Thoughts of horrific violence and hate, paralyzing and extremely irrational worries, very unrealistic and unfathomable beliefs, and constant, terrifying fears. My OCD has presented me with a lifetime pass to a non-stop carnival of nightmarish abnormalities, like the inability to love or to trust; to crack even a hint of a smile or to conjure up anything remotely resembling the sound of laughter are both well beyond what my dreams can capture. I am immune to the pleasures of life. Simply put, I am permanently isolated from any and all such experiences. I have absolutely crippling comprehension problems and cannot summarize anything that I see, hear or read. I possess the full social skill set of that of a telephone pole. A walking encyclopedia of facts and statistics I am, marching in step with my ultra-sensitive feelings. So intensely felt are my feelings that I explode internally into screams just to cope. Incessantly I am feasted on by my feelings. As a result, I am very prone to emotional and mental overloads and long shutdowns. I am inept at conversation and without expression. When I can converse, I only know how to talk about and explain my feelings. That, as well as being nonjudgmental, non-materialistic and non-superficial, serve only to further alienate me from a world that can't relate to a freak like myself. I am highly analytical, systematic, intelligent and have a nearly perfect sense of logical thinking, all of which are rendered totally useless by my perfectionism, comprehension issues, and my ever destructive parasitic feelings. Strangely enough, I am unable to forget anything, and I do mean anything. It would seem that I am forever cursed to remember everything. A prison within a prison, as there is no escape for me through forgetting bad times, hurts or past regrets. Regret is always the special of the day and the only thing on life's daily menu. I ooze negativity from every pore like the monster that I am, completely consumed by bitterness and hatred. Self-acceptance is not possible. I am a thrall to my thoughts and feelings. It is the banner that I must always carry into endless battle, for it defines who I am. Hopeless, helpless, I am a serial victim of OCD. Perhaps far more damaging than OCD is a condition that my therapist calls lack of exposure. The best way that I can describe lack of exposure is by using an example of someone being in a coma from age twelve to age twenty seven. Crucial life skills are learned during that time. The most important developmental stage in life, and I was literally absent for all of it. I am now learning and trying to experience all of the things that people would normally learn and experience in life during those early teenage years through their mid- twenties. I can't ever get that time back. I must now live in a world with people without any of the preparation sorely needed to do so, but I know that it is way too late for me as the damage has already been done. It has been suggested that it would be helpful for me to somehow channel my thoughts and feelings into poetry or something. I do enjoy reading poetry, even though I am a terrible writer. In fact, I am terrible at everything that I do and equally terrible at everything that I don't do.
Some of my problematic beliefs that I am incapable of disbelieving:
All problems are created by people
All problems are solved by money or violence or suicide but always in that order
Money solves any and all problems given enough money
Violence eliminates the person or persons creating the problem should there be no money or not enough money to solve the problem
Suicide removes the person being affected by the problem should violence not be attempted or fail for any reason
Hate is the new love
Everything is a scam
Employers are terrorists
Less laws, more punishment
Home is where the horror is
Terrorists should be crucified
Crucifixion is the only justice
Aggressive drivers are terrorists
There's no place like a peopleless planet
The present is the past; the future is the past
First impressions mean nothing; last impressions mean everything
People who text or talk on the phone while driving are murderers who haven't been convicted yet
The only thing there is to fear is people
Everything happens for a reason: a bad reason
Women are only good for one thing: hurting me
Good things come to those who wait; I am still waiting for something good to come
All good things must come to an end while all bad things must go on forever
Whatever doesn't kill you destroys your life so badly that you wish it had killed you
God helps those who help themselves, and since I can't help myself, I guess that's why He hasn't helped me[/left]
My Reading List
Full Reading List
Abandoned
by becsta (Bec)
I am The Blur
by nikkimoe
My Lady Is Broken
by becsta (Bec)
These Walls
by FacePaint (Steven D)
Citadel
by djmarciniak26
My Favorite Things
by artkytech
My Groups
Poets I Follow
Jonah777
Magdalena
cjmshadow
FacePaint
Mourningcloak
Twisted Dreamer