Monday, November 06, 2006
An idiot recently told me that I was a moron - and, if I'm correct, insulted my religion. While I'm staying by the fact that the person was a moron, they did have a fair point: I don't post much insight into anything on here. So here you go.
I have OCD. Some of you don't know what that means. Some of you are probably thinking, "I wonder if that's contagious?" Some of you might know what it means, and some of you might have a fleeting thought of a show called, "Monk," but only others who have OCD - Obsessive Compulsive Disorder - can really know what it's like.
For those of you - and it's probably only a few - who have seen only the stereotypical version of OCD - yes, there is one - let me clear some things up.
First off, I'm not a germaphobe. I don't have numerous irrational phobias. I don't touch lampposts as I walk by them. Well, honestly, I have done that before, but it's not a major problem. I'd just like to point out one quick thing, here: No offense to germaphobes, or people with irrational phobias or anything is intended.
Anyway...
I don't have any of that.
I count things.
Some of you are going to reread that sentence.
Some of you are going to think, "That's it?"
Some of you are going to roll your eyes, label me as melodramatic, and go do something else.
Some of you are going to shrug and keep reading.
Some of you might do something totally different; I don't know; I'm not a psychic.
But let me tell you, that anyone who thinks I got off easy, you're not really getting the impact of what I said - er, typed. To understand, at least in part, you'd need to do this:
Look at the sky. Think, "Those clouds are so pretty."
Now count the syllables in the thought you just had.
What do they add up to? Six? Too bad. Edit the thought until the syllables come out to a multiple of seven. Multiple of eight? Nope. Eight is evil and sacreligous. (No offense, eight.) Keep editing. Tired of it? Too bad. That's how it is for me. My thoughts, my words, my sentences; they all have to come out a multiple of seven. If it's eight, I frantically recount, and then, 'edit,' whatever I just thought, or said, in my mind, so that it makes seven. Some of you are going to say, "Pff. Yeah, right." some of you are going to say, "Not my problem." Some of you might feel a small bit of sympathy. Please, don't. I don't want sympathy. I want someone else to understand. To know what it's like. Going through each day, counting how many steps you take to get from your bedroom to the kitchen, and then adding another step or two if it isn't a seven. Being about half-focused on what people are saying to you as you count on your hand or in your head. They say, "I really like that sweater," and you get, "123 4567."
I look at all the people around me who are, 'normal,' and I think, 'they don't know how lucky they are...' Then I grab my hand to stop from ticking away the syllables, and force myself to the next thought. All the people areound me; they have no idea. They're friendly to me, they show concern when I act strange, and the people who know why I do, they try to help me.
But most of them just don't get it.
I don't hold it against them; why would I? It's not their falut, and I'm grateful to those who try and help.
There's more to it than just the OCD, just the counting, but if I went into to detail with anyone - even my phsycologist; even a professional, paid-by-the-hour/minute psychiatrist - they'd think me to be a loon.
Sometimes I'm not so sure myself.
I'll type it anyway.
When I look at people around me, I get a mixed feeling of happiness and jealousy.
You see, I talk to things. Things that I know aren't there; people that I know don't exist. I write stories, and one of them, "New Dimensions," seems to have taken over my life.
I know the people I talk to aren't real. But I talk to them anyway. I make up both sides of the conversation; by now I'm so used to it that I don't notice it.
I didn't used to think I was crazy, but now I'm not sure. I know they aren't real. They're fictional. So why do I feel guilt as I type that; why do I feel as though that by doing so, I have betrayed a best friend?
Happiness... Because not everyone has friends that they can talk to, any minute of any day. Not everyone has imagination enough to have a conversation with someone who isn't there and still come out of it knowing something that they didn't before.
Jealousy... Because believe it or not, there's more. Other people don't feel the need to apoligize to the word, 'it,' every time they say, "dangit!"
I do.
Other people generally don't get into arguements with bathroom stalls, or bowling balls.
I have.
Stange, to say the least, even though - and maybe because - I was once again in complete control of the whole thing, of both sides of it.
Other people people throw stuffed animals at walls, or punch pillows to vent their anger; I can't. Because I don't want to hurt them.
I know that most of it isn't real; but sometimes it seems so hard to remember that...
When I compare this to my, 'normal,' OCD, it's like comparing the Empire State Building to a monster truck. Both things seem rather large when looked at separately, but when compared the former is much larger than the latter.
Once I've gotten a prescription for my OCD, I can start taking medicine for it; hopefully it will help. But the... I don't even know what to call it. The other thing - I don't know if it's a part of the OCD, or something else entirely. And either way, I have no clue if they make a medicne for it.
And if they do, I don't know that I would take it.
Because I don't know if I really want to be rid of it.
I like it, in some ways. I have someone to talk to when no one's around. (Seems simple, right? Not right. Because to me, they all have personalities; they're just like real people, and I can't just pour out my soul to them.)
A part of me wants desperately to be normal, but that's a very small part.
Most of me wants to keep this, even though I worry what it means for my mental health.
I've learned to just take these things in stride - mostly - and get on with life.
There.
There's an example of how I feel the majority of the time.
There's my freaking insight, whoever the idiot was that posted this:
no one reads your blog except spammers...plus your blog is boring and pointless it has no insight inot anything and your a moron...who worships some carpenter who lived 2000 years ago.....
I have OCD. Some of you don't know what that means. Some of you are probably thinking, "I wonder if that's contagious?" Some of you might know what it means, and some of you might have a fleeting thought of a show called, "Monk," but only others who have OCD - Obsessive Compulsive Disorder - can really know what it's like.
For those of you - and it's probably only a few - who have seen only the stereotypical version of OCD - yes, there is one - let me clear some things up.
First off, I'm not a germaphobe. I don't have numerous irrational phobias. I don't touch lampposts as I walk by them. Well, honestly, I have done that before, but it's not a major problem. I'd just like to point out one quick thing, here: No offense to germaphobes, or people with irrational phobias or anything is intended.
Anyway...
I don't have any of that.
I count things.
Some of you are going to reread that sentence.
Some of you are going to think, "That's it?"
Some of you are going to roll your eyes, label me as melodramatic, and go do something else.
Some of you are going to shrug and keep reading.
Some of you might do something totally different; I don't know; I'm not a psychic.
But let me tell you, that anyone who thinks I got off easy, you're not really getting the impact of what I said - er, typed. To understand, at least in part, you'd need to do this:
Look at the sky. Think, "Those clouds are so pretty."
Now count the syllables in the thought you just had.
What do they add up to? Six? Too bad. Edit the thought until the syllables come out to a multiple of seven. Multiple of eight? Nope. Eight is evil and sacreligous. (No offense, eight.) Keep editing. Tired of it? Too bad. That's how it is for me. My thoughts, my words, my sentences; they all have to come out a multiple of seven. If it's eight, I frantically recount, and then, 'edit,' whatever I just thought, or said, in my mind, so that it makes seven. Some of you are going to say, "Pff. Yeah, right." some of you are going to say, "Not my problem." Some of you might feel a small bit of sympathy. Please, don't. I don't want sympathy. I want someone else to understand. To know what it's like. Going through each day, counting how many steps you take to get from your bedroom to the kitchen, and then adding another step or two if it isn't a seven. Being about half-focused on what people are saying to you as you count on your hand or in your head. They say, "I really like that sweater," and you get, "123 4567."
I look at all the people around me who are, 'normal,' and I think, 'they don't know how lucky they are...' Then I grab my hand to stop from ticking away the syllables, and force myself to the next thought. All the people areound me; they have no idea. They're friendly to me, they show concern when I act strange, and the people who know why I do, they try to help me.
But most of them just don't get it.
I don't hold it against them; why would I? It's not their falut, and I'm grateful to those who try and help.
There's more to it than just the OCD, just the counting, but if I went into to detail with anyone - even my phsycologist; even a professional, paid-by-the-hour/minute psychiatrist - they'd think me to be a loon.
Sometimes I'm not so sure myself.
I'll type it anyway.
When I look at people around me, I get a mixed feeling of happiness and jealousy.
You see, I talk to things. Things that I know aren't there; people that I know don't exist. I write stories, and one of them, "New Dimensions," seems to have taken over my life.
I know the people I talk to aren't real. But I talk to them anyway. I make up both sides of the conversation; by now I'm so used to it that I don't notice it.
I didn't used to think I was crazy, but now I'm not sure. I know they aren't real. They're fictional. So why do I feel guilt as I type that; why do I feel as though that by doing so, I have betrayed a best friend?
Happiness... Because not everyone has friends that they can talk to, any minute of any day. Not everyone has imagination enough to have a conversation with someone who isn't there and still come out of it knowing something that they didn't before.
Jealousy... Because believe it or not, there's more. Other people don't feel the need to apoligize to the word, 'it,' every time they say, "dangit!"
I do.
Other people generally don't get into arguements with bathroom stalls, or bowling balls.
I have.
Stange, to say the least, even though - and maybe because - I was once again in complete control of the whole thing, of both sides of it.
Other people people throw stuffed animals at walls, or punch pillows to vent their anger; I can't. Because I don't want to hurt them.
I know that most of it isn't real; but sometimes it seems so hard to remember that...
When I compare this to my, 'normal,' OCD, it's like comparing the Empire State Building to a monster truck. Both things seem rather large when looked at separately, but when compared the former is much larger than the latter.
Once I've gotten a prescription for my OCD, I can start taking medicine for it; hopefully it will help. But the... I don't even know what to call it. The other thing - I don't know if it's a part of the OCD, or something else entirely. And either way, I have no clue if they make a medicne for it.
And if they do, I don't know that I would take it.
Because I don't know if I really want to be rid of it.
I like it, in some ways. I have someone to talk to when no one's around. (Seems simple, right? Not right. Because to me, they all have personalities; they're just like real people, and I can't just pour out my soul to them.)
A part of me wants desperately to be normal, but that's a very small part.
Most of me wants to keep this, even though I worry what it means for my mental health.
I've learned to just take these things in stride - mostly - and get on with life.
There.
There's an example of how I feel the majority of the time.
There's my freaking insight, whoever the idiot was that posted this:
no one reads your blog except spammers...plus your blog is boring and pointless it has no insight inot anything and your a moron...who worships some carpenter who lived 2000 years ago.....
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Okay... Seriously, is EVERYTHING that EVERYONE posts here SPAM?! There have been like two, MAYBE three people that have replied to my posts that haven't been telling me to go get a college degree, or a free laptop, or some other crap that's gonna end up costing a fortune, despite the fact that it's 'free'. Attention spammers: Unless you're gonna show me a website where I can get a book published, or bring fictional characters to life, GO AWAY.
Now that that's out of the way, anyone know of a Demyx, Zexion, Axel, or Marluxia fansite? (See, that WOULDN'T be spam, because it's what I'm actually looking for, and hopefully it's not all about trying to sell a bunch of crap.) If you know of one, PLEASE let me know!
Now that that's out of the way, anyone know of a Demyx, Zexion, Axel, or Marluxia fansite? (See, that WOULDN'T be spam, because it's what I'm actually looking for, and hopefully it's not all about trying to sell a bunch of crap.) If you know of one, PLEASE let me know!
Saturday, April 22, 2006
I've been playing Kingdom Hearts Two, and I must say, it is AWESOME so far! I've been playing it with my twin cousins. Or, more accurately, I've been playing while they watch, and spot all of the treasure chests.(And man are they good at that!) They also love to play the Winnie the Pooh minnigames. (I like those, too! ;-) )
One of my favorite parts so far, though, is:
*Spoilers*
There is a scene after beating Demyx (Who RULES, by the way) in Hollow Bastion, when a heartless knocks a bolder loose. It falls towards the king (Mickey). Goofy shoves him out of the way, and the boulder hits him instead. He falls and slides headfirst into a rock wall, and doesn't get up.
Mickey: No...
Donald and Sora try to get him to wake up, and among other things, Donald says, "I'm sorry about the ice cream!" That cracked me up, even though I kept thinking, 'Don't be dead, don't be dead...' (Especially since my cousins were watching!)
Finally, that part of the scene ends with,
Donald: Oh, Goofy!
Sora: This is not happening... This can't be happening! ... It can't be...
Mickey: *Shaking* They'll pay for this... *Tosses aside his black cloak and runs forward in fury*
Donald: ooooooh......AH! *Furious, gets up and joins king*
And then later, Goofy show up, and says something along the lines of, "Gawarsh, your majesty! I get hit on the head with stuff all the time!"
END SPOILERS
I'm not finished with it yet, but I hope to beat it soon!
Anyone else played the game?
One of my favorite parts so far, though, is:
*Spoilers*
There is a scene after beating Demyx (Who RULES, by the way) in Hollow Bastion, when a heartless knocks a bolder loose. It falls towards the king (Mickey). Goofy shoves him out of the way, and the boulder hits him instead. He falls and slides headfirst into a rock wall, and doesn't get up.
Mickey: No...
Donald and Sora try to get him to wake up, and among other things, Donald says, "I'm sorry about the ice cream!" That cracked me up, even though I kept thinking, 'Don't be dead, don't be dead...' (Especially since my cousins were watching!)
Finally, that part of the scene ends with,
Donald: Oh, Goofy!
Sora: This is not happening... This can't be happening! ... It can't be...
Mickey: *Shaking* They'll pay for this... *Tosses aside his black cloak and runs forward in fury*
Donald: ooooooh......AH! *Furious, gets up and joins king*
And then later, Goofy show up, and says something along the lines of, "Gawarsh, your majesty! I get hit on the head with stuff all the time!"
END SPOILERS
I'm not finished with it yet, but I hope to beat it soon!
Anyone else played the game?
Sunday, November 06, 2005
Calvin and Hobbes
Even though I never read it in the papers, I absolutely love Calvin and Hobbes!
My piano teacher had a miniature version of one of the books. I think it was, "Scientific progress goes 'Boink'". Anyway, a year or two later, I saw a Calvin and Hobbes book in the school book orders. I thougt, "This looks familiar..." I couldn't remember where I'd seen it before, but I thought it sounded interesting, so I ordered it. It was awesome! I don't know when I realized that those were the same books as the one that my piano teacher had - probably after I read the duplicator story - but from then on I always looked through the book orders to see if they had any new ones, and this year for my birthday, my grandma took me to the book store, and I picked out three new ones. These are the ones that I currently have:
Calvin and Hobbes 10th Anniversary Book*
Calvin and Hobbes Lazy Sunday Book
Attack of the Deranged Mutant Killer Monster Snow Goons
Revenge of the Baby-Sat
The Authoritative Calvin and Hobbes
The Essential Calvin and Hobbes
The Indespensible Calvin and Hobbes
Scientific Progress Goes "Boink"
Homicidal Phsyco Jungle Cat
*I somehow ended up with two of these
Anyone else here a die-hard Calvin and Hobbes fan?
My piano teacher had a miniature version of one of the books. I think it was, "Scientific progress goes 'Boink'". Anyway, a year or two later, I saw a Calvin and Hobbes book in the school book orders. I thougt, "This looks familiar..." I couldn't remember where I'd seen it before, but I thought it sounded interesting, so I ordered it. It was awesome! I don't know when I realized that those were the same books as the one that my piano teacher had - probably after I read the duplicator story - but from then on I always looked through the book orders to see if they had any new ones, and this year for my birthday, my grandma took me to the book store, and I picked out three new ones. These are the ones that I currently have:
Calvin and Hobbes 10th Anniversary Book*
Calvin and Hobbes Lazy Sunday Book
Attack of the Deranged Mutant Killer Monster Snow Goons
Revenge of the Baby-Sat
The Authoritative Calvin and Hobbes
The Essential Calvin and Hobbes
The Indespensible Calvin and Hobbes
Scientific Progress Goes "Boink"
Homicidal Phsyco Jungle Cat
*I somehow ended up with two of these
Anyone else here a die-hard Calvin and Hobbes fan?
Saturday, September 24, 2005
Random stuff, and a question
Sly 3: Honor Among Thieves comes out sept. 27, along with ROBOTS, and I thonk I'm going to explode with anticipation! Also can't wait for "Wallace and Grommit: the Curse of the Were-Rabbit" Me and my dad watch "Wallace and Gromit" sometimes... Haven't in a while, though. The one I remember the most is "The Wrong Trousers" I almost cried when Gromit was getting ready to leave... I'm a sucker for sad parts in films and books... They're usually my favorite parts!
Anyone know where I can find some ROBOTS, or Wallace and Gromit, fanfiction? Also, I'm looking for some Pooh-Bear fanfiction to read to my cousins.
I know fanfiction.net has some Wallace and Gromit stories, but there's only, like, four!
Speaking of fanfiction.net, I'm an author there! My user name is Experimental Fairimental
Good luck remembering that! :D
Anyone know where I can find some ROBOTS, or Wallace and Gromit, fanfiction? Also, I'm looking for some Pooh-Bear fanfiction to read to my cousins.
I know fanfiction.net has some Wallace and Gromit stories, but there's only, like, four!
Speaking of fanfiction.net, I'm an author there! My user name is Experimental Fairimental
Good luck remembering that! :D
Monday, September 19, 2005
Harry Potter
I just re-read Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince... Great book!
"Kreacher will not insult Harry Potter in front of Dobby, no he won't, or Dobby will shut Kreacher's mouth for him!" Lol, I almost died laughing!
What are your opinins about the books/movies?
"Kreacher will not insult Harry Potter in front of Dobby, no he won't, or Dobby will shut Kreacher's mouth for him!" Lol, I almost died laughing!
What are your opinins about the books/movies?
Monday, August 01, 2005
Went to see "Charlie and the Chocalate Factory" yesterday. I thought it was prety good. It was... Different, that's for sure...
