Shrink rap.

A Mindy original, 15. One of the “us” up there. Please excuse the grammar…the tone…the spelling…the derogatory epithets…..the ? lol. rofl. lmao. omgzzzz. i mean OMG guyzzz.

(thanks Mindy)


Yo it started bout a year ago

i met a man with a plan

he holla’d at me

an i took dat niggaz’ hand

he say he gonna help gotta a lotta shit planned

ill be yo doc 

be yo rock

lemme take a lil look an’ give yo head a whirl

I’m the spinna’

the winna’

gonna shrink yo mind

i got planz to feed ya head take yu back to anutha’ time

im yo shrink yeah yo shrink, got degrees out dee ass

i been to kollage

i got naw’ledge

gunna give yu a pass

no pillz no thrills I’m all talk in dah end

i aint yo daddy aint yo mommy im yo professional friend

we gonna sit

gonna chat

i got some skills in my hat

yu be cool

i be cool an deez sessionz gun’na be phat




The Incognizant Unassuming Catfish

Its been ages since I first heard the term “catfish” used in a way other than to describe the big, ugly yet delicious (pan-fried or battered yes please!) creature that dwells in lakes and can sting you.

When I was around 15 years old, I was “catfished” by a middle-aged lesbian on an AOL chat room. Back in the day when there were AOL role-playing chats.

It started with the role-playing game we played online, in a world that I only remember being called “Ryden” where she pretended to be a male character. She was doing what I now know is called “grooming” and was most likely a pedophile. I will not say for sure, but I did mention my age, sex and location, so she definitely knew I was a child.

I fell madly in love with her character, whose name escapes me for the moment, but thinking back I believe it was Xavier or Zavier. Or something of that sort. She did change her name a few times in-game I think.

I woke up happy thinking about him, and although I knew it was just a game, hoped that, because of our passionate online relationship, it would develop perhaps out of the game and in to reality one day when I was ready.

The day she took it outside of the game will stick with me forever.

I was in total shock. I stopped playing the game and stopped talking to him/her.

I just, cut him off, and I never returned to the game.

I remember her asking me if I wanted to meet now “url” and she told me about herself, think she was 37? female. and in my mind at that time the word “gross” came to mind. Perhaps I was sent a picture of her, but I can’t remember for sure.

The grooming came in with the excessive “hooking” she did. She knew I was a head over heals madly in love teenager who didn’t know better. She, some woman who obviously had some issues. I mean, we played, sexually. And that’s where it cuts off. Locked away in my DiD brain.

The course of the relationship was over a year. I remember feeling bad. Feeling like I really hurt someone. Feeling repulsed and sickened for being lied to. Feeling like all those conversations and moments we had together were all just lies. The line between “Ryden” and reality was well blurred and by that point I was living in the fantasy.

It took me a long time to get over the deception, the hurt feelings. It cuts deep and at that age I think you don’t know how to deceive people in certain ways, especially relationship wise. I just felt empty, lost, confused. Why would someone do this? That questioned remained for a very long time.

The here and the NOW.

I’ve started to think, with my DiD, I have led people to believe many things about me that were false, much like a catfish, although I behaved this way unknowingly do my actions make me an unassuming catfish???

I’ve had Linked in accounts, I’ve found Facebook accounts that I can only dream what I’ve done with them, I’ve sent pictures of myself to strangers. I wonder, what antics the I’s are up to now? Am I out there? Somewhere… catfishing some poor soul?



What do Marcus Aurelius and Broccoli have in common?

I have no clue, but someone thought it was really hilarious.

From Meditations Book 8, X

This, what is it in itself, and by itself, according to its proper constitution? What is the substance of it? What is the matter, or proper use? What is the form or efficient cause? What is it for in this world, and how long will it abide? Thus must thou examine all things, that present themselves unto thee.



More, here if you please

Crisis of Identity

I think the most devastating aspect of Dissociative Identity Disorder is the inability to be true to oneself, you are disallowed to know thy self, and isnt that the first rule? Isnt that Divine Law? DiD prohibits one to know oneself. You can only know the characters in the menagerie, the roles they play, their names and numbers, all contained on a tiny stage, in a tiny opera house, in a tiny city surrounded by walls.


Ive been thinking quite a bit about the “to know” bit. To know oneself, perhaps to know can be defined in this instance as ‘to see and understand the mechanisms of it’. “It” being defined as that matter which collectively forms the unknown. Perhaps we must discover and leave the knowing to the parts themselves to truly evolve into a solid state from the liquid mercurial chaos that we currently exist as?

We are parts disjointed at the neck, arms, legs, wrists, torso, but the head remains intact, always, the head remains intact. That which we know to be our most recognizable feature. So in summary, perhaps all is not lost for us DiD.



lost in the ether

There’s something spectacular about denial. It soothes the mind in times of stress, allows us to disassociate ourselves from the inconvenient truth of a matter or situation and it keeps all of our emotions ever so neatly wrapped up (or perhaps cleverly disguises the catastrophe?). Whatever the case may be, denial is the brains most tremendous resource. I think?

Can I posses it,  buy it or earn it somehow and if so how can I learn to master it?

I am in denial, about so many many aspects of my life as they stand today- denial has become burdensome for me, and the pain of it is like a seething wretched animal thats caught the scent of blood and hunts for my being in the utter darkness.

Yes, with denial comes shadows and bumps in the night. That hammer I picked up to drive the nails in to that coffin was in fact a swiss army knife of terrible and unmanageable machinery, of which I own no instructions manual for and of which there stands no master behind me to guide my course.

Do I reach swift in to my quiver full of nonsense hoping to drag out at least one straight arrow to shoot back at the denial thats slept so soundly with me night after night?

Or do I stand there and face the creature that creeps the trail?

Neither choice is correct, neither may lead to the path of enlightenment or content, but its clear a choice must be made. My own terrible demise ligers in the ether, I am now truely lost

I beez in the trap… are my alters?

I dissociated and found myself face deep into a shiite Nikki Minaj playlist on YouTube the other day, when I “woke up” my heart was racing and I felt like id run a marathon. This state is usually indicative of me having just been a “teen” me, or younger me, which made sense after I checked out the rest of the videos on the playlist (goth emo hair tutorials? dunno. wtf. LOL) . While I enjoy the visual appeal of Ms.Minaj and shes puts on a great performance, Im not a fan of her music.

Ive seen people online who report having a diagnosis of DID often times associating their alters appearance with fictional characters from the media. The  images they or their alters choose seem to follow a pattern of being very beautiful, male or female, human or non human beings, anime characters, vampires , angels, and other types in the same vein. Personally Ive never thought to try to map out what my alters look like, nor have any of my alters done this for themselves (However I don’t know what the hell they’re thinking  or doing all the time so maybe they have thought about it or are running some secret alter dating website somewhere using pictures of Twilight characters on their profile trying to hook up with other alters, GO TEAM EDWARD!)  Anyways, since I dont really have a clear image of what my alters look like, I started to think  ” Well what if all my alters looked like Nikki Minaj” and voilà, an art project. No, seriously I spent like 2 days collaging various images of Nikki Minaj together, immersing myself in her music, just well, because. So you better love it internet. What if all my alters DO think they look like Nikki Minaj?? Oh god.


And a very interesting video by a rapper named B.O.B featuring Nikki Minaj for your viewing pleasure. enjoy.

and, the title, I have no idea what this video is telling me, but i like the title

Weird shit shrinks cry over and great poetry

<3group hug! When i saw the sensitive side of my therepist, It melted me. He read me this poem first in Swedish, than in English. His deep, variably accented voice is perfect for narration, I’m not bragging or anything but I’d say he was the David Attenborough of the non domesticated shrink world. Yeah, thats right, Attenborough. It’s awfully touching to meet someone in the mental health profession that is first off so emo, and second so open in front of their patient. Shrinks, its okay to cry in front of your patients, don’t worry, we’re not the same species as you, we wont judge you for it 😉

so here it is in Swedish, good luck with that!

nah kidding, english is below it, but seriously, learn Swedish. (I hate it when people say that as if your going to go home and learn Swedish just so you can read their stupid post or poem huhhh, UGH) Well its okay, I think its just more power and emotion in the words and their correlations and meanings in Swedish. Whatever , read it.

Ja visst gör det ont

Ja visst gör det ont när knoppar brister.
Varför skulle annars våren tveka?
Varför skulle all vår heta längtan
bindas i det frusna bitterbleka?
Höljet var ju knoppen hela vintern.
Vad är det för nytt, som tär och spränger?
Ja visst gör det ont när knoppar brister,
ont för det som växer
och det som stänger.

Ja nog är det svårt när droppar faller.
Skälvande av ängslan tungt de hänger,
klamrar sig vid kvisten, sväller, glider –
tyngden drar dem neråt, hur de klänger.
Svårt att vara oviss, rädd och delad,
svårt att känna djupet dra och kalla,
ändå sitta kvar och bara darra –
svårt att vilja stanna
och vilja falla.

Då, när det är värst och inget hjälper,
Brister som i jubel trädets knoppar.
Då, när ingen rädsla längre håller,
faller i ett glitter kvistens droppar
glömmer att de skrämdes av det nya
glömmer att de ängslades för färden –
känner en sekund sin största trygghet,
vilar i den tillit
som skapar världen.

Of course it hurts when buds burst.
Otherwise why would spring hesitate?
Why would all our fervent longing
be bound in the frozen bitter haze?
The bud was the casing all winter.
What is this new thing, which consumes and bursts?
Of course it hurts when buds burst,
pain for that which grows
and for that which envelops.

Of course it is hard when drops fall.
Trembling with fear they hang heavy,
clammer on the branch, swell and slide –
the weight pulls them down, how they cling.
Hard to be uncertain, afraid and divided,
hard to feel the deep pulling and calling,
yet sit there and just quiver –
hard to want to stay
and to want to fall.

Then, at the point of agony and when all is beyond
the tree’s buds burst as if in jubilation,
then, when fear no longer exists,
the branch’s drops tumble in a shimmer,
forgetting that they were afraid of the new,
forgetting that they were fearful of the journey –
feeling for a second their greatest security,
resting in the trust
that creates the world.

(PS- Im in a state at the moment I call “halfsies”, which is basically im in between personality states. Its a feeling like no other, or well, like dissociating, ya know theres THAT analogy.  My body is doing one thing,,, my mind is doing another and its like Im in a fuzzy dream world. It’s shit honestly. I don’t know what Sally Field was on about, this blows)

Sick days and why an “alter” just don’t get it

SO WE’RE sick, and when I say we I mean me an IRL child of mine. The weirdest thing is, I think alternate mes’ dont experience “illness” and colds in the same way. Of course I say this by observations made by irl people, and not based off the internal chitty chat. Which ranges from ” I DON WANNA GO SKOOOOLLL” to “F”#$% I F”#$% HATE sick people”

They just don’t understand sick, I wonder if to them its like a figment of their imagination, like when you remember a time when you got food poisoned and sort of feel a slight wingeing. So no matter how I feel, they go about their day/space time period as if nothings different. Alters don’t get sick….****ENTER DREAM SEQUENCE….NOW!***** (I dissociated in the middle of this post.)

if (they’re) frontin’ (they) don akt sik, meh (they) just laugh at sik. mayB drink some syrup and eat some red vines, alll better. thas whats up.

I decided to block quote that just to show you how ridiculous this is sometimes. It is ludicrous. What happened to my spelling and grammar? Does it take extra effort to spell and form sentences in such a hideous manner guys, really? I wonder, I know im supposed to “ask within” but I’m not opening up this courtroom to the jury just yet. Too much drama in there, I swear if you could just listen in for a second its like 3 world wars all at once, all the time.