"maladaptive" poems
related to childhood emotional abuse or neglect...
not to be confused with derealization or 'fantasy prone personality'
maladaptive daydreaming is seeing your face when I fall asleep at night
or hearing your voice in a children's store
"Come look! Look at these shoes!", and seeing you scramble at a pair of sandals
Big brown eyes begging me to buy them as "an early birthday present, just this once."
Maladaptive daydreaming
is blinking and not even having time to register the fact that you'd disappeared
and I was standing alone in the children's shoe aisle,
on my knees holding a pair of sandals
and feeling that same twist in my gut that I did on the day
the papers were signed and my passport was stamped,
to get on a plane to another country
without so much as waving goodbye
Maladaptive daydreaming is crying through anti-abortion rhetoric
and sympathising with teenage mothers
it's seeing you smile behind a nikon camera, calling
"Look at this pretty picture I took! See, see?"
and then realising that I was only smiling at a fallen camera in the sand
Maladaptive daydreaming
is regretting a choice I didn't make
it's steeling my jaw at immature jokes
and relating to all those children raising children
Maladaptive daydreaming
is regretting giving up a daughter
I never had
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 1:17 AM UTC
I'm ******* done,
With this world that I shouldn't be in.
Once found this maze so amazing
When I was small,
But not anymore.
Growing up singing church songs
Of what I was not.
How did I belong to what promoted
What I could never be?
There you go:
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.
Because families were made to be perfect!
So plan all your babies,
But society will still
**** them all up in cages.
Not much waiting involved
It won't take very long.
I am not what the mormon church says.
I was a mistake.
I don't live with two parents.
I see but don't live with one.
So I'm blaming my mother,
Because in theses times that I cry
Is when I realise
That it's all her fault.
I couldn't help but be created,
So for those who hate me for being born
I'm sorry but sorry won't make it right.
To those who being a demon makes you high
I guess I'll have to just stand and watch.
Yes I've grown taller
And height has made me see,
How much that I was not meant to be.
I have friends
But one day everyone
Will get torn away.
Then there will just be nothing.
Nothing of me
Or for me, at least.
And it's almost like I only have
Maladaptive daydreams to be happy about,
But I can't because they're depressing as hell.
The fact that I exist to be able to have them is déprimant
Yet I am not depressed
But maybe I should be,
Because God knows I shouldn't be here
And dear God I'm sorry I am
Because I messed up your perfect plan.
And well if my birth really was hectic
Then why couldn't I have died then?
Because my stupid, pathetic and unwanted life
Wouldn't have lasted this long.
What's a mistake is unwanted
What's unplanned is unwanted
What I am is unwanted
What I will be to those around me
One day will be
An unwanted memory.
Sep 25, 2015
Sep 25, 2015 at 2:36 PM UTC
I leafed through the DSM this morning
diagnosing every ******* person in my life
incessent character flaws,
maladaptive responses
that ache in my mind,
and shatter my "normal"
expectancies of human behavior
In all of the descriptors
"has a strong desire to be the center of attention"
"is often inappropriately provocative or sexually seductive"
"Exhibits odd or eccentrive appearance/behavior"
"Seeks excitement and stiumulation, often acting on impulse"
the only person I could really diagnose
was me your therapist
Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 4:29 PM UTC
You're not going to let it win
You are not going to let it destroy you
You are going to find control
You're going to accomplish what you plan
It's going to be left as a ship wreck
And be compared to your successes
You are going to do this
You are going to get through this
I'm not going to let it win
I am not going to let it destroy me
I am going to find control
I'm going to accomplish what I plan
It's going to be left as a ship wreck
And be compared to my successes
I am going to do this
I am going to get through this
I'm not going to let MDD win
I am not going to let MDD destroy me
I am going to take its control
I'm not going to let MDD stop me from accomplishing what I have planned
My MDD is going to be left as a ship wreck
And be compared to my achieved successes
I am going to do this and beat MDD
I am going to get through MDD's disturbances
And I will not let it prevent me from living
I suffer from Maladaptive Daydreaming Disorder
It pushes me around
Kills my hopes and dreams
And contributes to my wish of never being born
But maybe I can try
If I put my head into a good perspective
To gain the control
Back into my life
Why should we have to suffer?
Nov 18, 2015
Nov 18, 2015 at 12:13 PM UTC
Theres a circle cycle of sides to the self of me
Standing in the middle surveying my surroundings
Noting each application and the consequences that apply
Maybe I'm simply a hedonist
Weighting for worn out pleasure centers to take a flame
Or an optimistic pessimist
Citing my self for the blame
My humanistic approach has lost appeal
Defying my superego
And hierarchy of needs reel
Stuck in Erickson stages
A psychodynamic underground war rages
There's a linear graph
Self sided to me
Maybe I'm projecting all my insecurities
And taking my abnormalities
Out on maladaptive poetry
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 10:46 PM UTC
if you **** me with your robots that chant tempests in pottery barns
you might look the fool who vanquished a perfect slave
free to disobey your stupid self hatred.
if you had the use of both lungs, and clung to fathoms of shallow harm
no harm but love's arm
clasping embraceful of your
lost god, would come
to you
if this were the writ that hit veins in your extravagant cairns
stick to your guns; adhere to the wound
damage done.
loving you relentless, maladaptive to dem bones.
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 2:52 PM UTC
while chewing on the sandwich i was given
i failed to notice the ruffage and the soil of my glamour
only the ludicrous measure of my apathy and passion.
only the girl of my memes and the maladaptive gnomes
of my moveable feast.
i saw through the aerosols and the Hindi.
i ate nothing but net.
i slept with a barstool and a comet.
and asked you " Why? ".
and said, Less.
Apr 15, 2018
Apr 15, 2018 at 9:26 PM UTC
I often dream of pretty things
with unhealthy fascination.
I often go where you can't follow,
craving isolation.
I haven't found a footing sound
in this here habitation.
So I find life's sweeter side
in my imagination.
Aug 31, 2019
Aug 31, 2019 at 6:20 PM UTC
silent poet thinking words,
never i must write
lucid wretched loving words
all bark and half the bite
silent poet thinking thoughts
the ink refused to make
mind and pen are separate
an unyeilding opaque
if i tell the tale to you
of love and praise and good
you'd laugh and laugh and laugh some more
naive misunderstood
my mind a chasm of infinite good
the world dichotomous strange
the vines do seize me gently
to a velvet padded cage
my head is a bed of roses
the thorns pierce me not
i am safe and free and happy
delusional, deep in thought
**** me softly
make me smile
your intoxicating
rapt exile
silent poet thinking thoughts
writes symphonies in his head
the writer and the audience
will dance until they're dead
silent poet thinking words
is struck by stockholm syndrome
perfect captor perfect world
illusion is his home
Apr 4, 2021
Apr 4, 2021 at 6:06 AM UTC
It is cluttered inside,
and lonely, as you sit there,
with all your noise, all your baggage,
and all your incoherent pieces,
and at the end of the day,
it is a choice;
it is your fault,
and,
but,
you can change.
Scattered, broken thoughts,
festering over the years,
rooted in fears, washing over you like tidal waves:
“Are you even trying to be good?”
“You’re wasting everyone’s time.”
“You push others away because you are afraid.”
Your clenching, pounding heart responds,
“There is danger here, and you are not safe."
*No. There is no danger. I am safe.*
You are exhausted,
with the collateral damage
of harboring irrational thoughts,
and of having hurt so many people,
trying to protect yourself.
So you brazenly dive into the wreckage,
because you have had enough,
and trudge through your muddled self,
again
and again
and again.
You lurch and welter within your swamp,
and it reeks of self-pity
and blind-spots,
and now you are up to your chin
in quicksand, trapped in vat,
conjured
(with your permission)
by your own monstrous thoughts.
Get outside of yourself;
your mess, your swamp,
your polluted soul,
your trembling anxiety,
your maladaptive thinking,
your baggage,
your noise,
your clutter.
Your mind is overwhelming,
and,
but,
it is ever-malleable.
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 10:24 PM UTC
running away
into
a maladaptive dream
impulsively
searching for more
dopamine
forgetting to
mourn
the losses and
discarding
all the old
belongings
playing pretend
ignoring
heart and soul
shredded
to pieces once
again
Mar 24, 2021
Mar 24, 2021 at 11:52 AM UTC
I can’t change right now
because I don’t have any energy to focus on changing.
I am standing at the bottom of a deep trench. It is my trench because I dug this dark & dingy trough that I spend each night in. And I cannot focus on change right now because it takes every scrap of energy residing inside of me just to stay alive. And I am working so hard to shove the dirtiness and shame deep down inside of my blackened soul. DT is right (he usually is, even though angry girl has a hard time accepting what DT says as the truth…eventually it sinks in…when logical/rational Nita comes around and has a chance to absorb it.
After everything I’ve supposedly “survived” – its ****** me off that this part, this “healing & acceptance” of myself is by far the hardest part, by far. (I did NOT say forgiveness - that will never, ever happen – and DT supports my decision on this). Enduring my father’s abuse when I was a child is not nearly as unbearable or traumatizing as reliving it is now. It scared me then, confused me, and hurt me…I didn’t like it. it hurt…but I didn’t comprehend what he was doing, I had no idea what I was losing…my innocence, my trust, all of the things that affect me now. I was a confused little girl who always wondered if this was normal behavior, if it happened in all families. I was an anxious teenager, struggling to be perfect, a chameleon, changing to fit the mold of what everyone else wanted from me.
Now I’m a grown woman who knows about the dangers of abusing alcohol and prescription anti-anxiety medications, I know the risks of the nightly rituals of SI that we engage in and yet I cannot stop myself from continuing to use these “maladaptive” methods to cope (and I use that term loosely). I want so badly to erase it all. I know my nightly behavior is harmful but I am not able to change that right now, I do not have the energy, every bit of it goes into just getting through the day…
minute by minute.
I tried so hard this past week – to let it all go, to push it down and act like a normal human being, but some nights I feel beaten down, crushed by the feelings and thoughts and memories that are running rampantly through my mind like a drove of cattle, crushing everything in their path. I cannot control them…as DT says, it’s like trying to herd cats.
I am not armed to face the girl I am supposed to accept.
And this stupid worthless body is aching and it won’t stop.
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 11:39 PM UTC
Someone help me please, I'm lost somewhere outside reality.
Cowardly hidden inside my head, a habit I formed when I'd lay in bed. Just a way to stop my bleeding, but now I fear my life has lost its meaning.
Can you hear my screams? Why do you ignore my pleas? I just want to be released from this hell that I've created for myself.
In my mental Wonderland, I'm not condemned for who I am. This imaginary life has to stop before I run out of time. It's not real I scream, but my heart doesn't want to believe.
My truth may be cold and painful, but at least its real. This imaginary life that I've created is only looking to steal and ****
So please, anyone, if you can hear me! Break me free from this insanity.
Jul 31, 2016
Jul 31, 2016 at 9:11 PM UTC
YOU MUST ELIMINATE THE FOLLOWING BEHAVIORS:
**cutting,
boozing,
denial,
self-blame,
excessive spending....**
I am taking away all of your maladaptive coping skills...
if you need them, they will be in either my purse or the refrigerator
neither of which you are allowed to prowl without my permission,
which of course you do not have.....
And what will we be replacing them with?
Oh -I'm glad you asked, Crazybrain!
We are replacing them with the following:
*Radical acceptance
Wisemind
Half smile
Oh, you could exercise too,
if you want: ******
Just deal with it!*
I personally think it's stupid to take away a person's crutches in life and expect them to deal effectively for more than a couple of days without a mental meltdown!
Because then you get to live in hell until you can learn to short-circuit the brain's automatic responses that you developed because of a lifetime of f@#kedupness.
DUMB! I'm just sayin' D~U~M~B!
Aug 8, 2013
Aug 8, 2013 at 4:56 PM UTC
She's going in reverse
she felt like a baby who needed a security blanket, a teddy bear
throwing inner tantrums, praying for something
She used to be a chameleon, adapted
must have lost her colors to something so ******* shallow
oh well, she's not ashamed, her body can't help it
**** it, she says
She's a baby, going backwards
needs, needs, needs
gets, and pushes away
Lost connections make her feel hopeless
Since when did everyone become a part of her?
The irony is that nobody really is
She shelters herself in a daydream
is her own bestfriend, makes herself feel ordinary
Comfortable, safe, apparently its dangerous
She lacks, but she loves
She's a baby
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 6:47 AM UTC
My mind's full of thoughts
I don't want.
Sequences, images of things
I can never have.
It's not about fantasizing about a better life
before you get to sleep.
It's about dissociating from reality
and excessively gritting your teeth.
You want and try to stop
but in a few seconds
you find yourself lost.
I can't remember when did it all begin,
probably way back before I was even a teen.
I want to cut my skin open and get out of my body, leave behind this broken mind.
It smothers me, it takes me to the edge,
it's eating me alive.
I'm losing it. Oh, I'm losing myself.
I don't want a way out, I want to be dead.
As I write this I'm imagining things.
Stop! Someone, rescue me!
I'm losing it.
Can I go crazy? I think I will.
I'll **** myself before it ends me.
I'm losing it.
Apr 13, 2018
Apr 13, 2018 at 2:24 PM UTC
I feel captive, hostage, trapped and bound
Within the corners of my own mind
Deep within my skin
I feel like there is no exit sign, no escape, no doors or windows
But I feel so free
Like I can be, do, see or say anything at all
I push everything aside
Tell my heart and mind that I don't feel a thing
I turn my senses off and I escape
I go where no one else can see
I know people I've never met
And I've been places no ones dreamt
But I can't help it
I can't turn it off
I can't escape when I dissociate
I am a prisoner inside my mind
I've been hurt and this is how I cope
But I don't feel anything
I only feel the feelings of someone I am not
Someone I can never be
I have memories of someone foreign living in my skin
But I can't help it
I need to leave, pause, reset and breath
I can escape when I dissociate
Feb 9, 2021
Feb 9, 2021 at 8:24 PM UTC
Do not say to me
that in life, is offered freedom.
Do not lie to me
and tell me everything is okay.
I am finished with the sacrament of stories,
I am done with lying through my words,
this world is falling apart in maladaptive chaos,
through the will of man, of companies and debt.
Do not sing to me
our prostituted freedoms.
Do not give to me
the ******** you've been fed.
I am past the need for fair and approved judgement,
I am beyond words for the injustice displayed,
from the cruelty of man to all species,
to the decimation of a low-income estate.
Do not offend me with
the policies for tomorrow.
Do not pin your bias
to the colour of your tie.
I am tired of fighting through this longing,
I am exhausted in the mere light of day,
because each day in your power is bereft of all hope,
each day in your power, we're enslaved.
Feb 18, 2014
Feb 18, 2014 at 10:03 AM UTC
My insecurities are shifting in my dreams,
I can't help but be worried about the pain that I bring upon myself.
Everyone is telling me, “What's the matter, you are perfect.”
Everyone is telling me that I should stop worrying.
But I can't help but panic inside,
I try, I try, I try to hoard these feelings inside.
But I am creating a surreal life,
I feel myself painting myself blind.
In this world, it's clear what is right and wrong,
but in my consciousness I don't know any more.
I feel myself become closer to you everyday,
but you are slowly drifting away.
Fantasy lives are everywhere, trying my hardest to stay alive,
but I noticed that I am faker than the world has ever known.
I've become digitally attached to my sorrow through bleeding ink.
I feel myself wanting to snap a doll's head off,
I just want to stop my mind from spinning around.
I am forever stuck in a maladaptive daydream,
where everything is fake except me moving.
[Stay Silent For Two Minutes]
Nov 1, 2015
Nov 1, 2015 at 3:50 PM UTC
run across the orange shorelines where the greatest empires have fallen,
and kiss the waves of the salty sea in hopes of resting your clumsy pulse and frivolous thoughts.
stretch your legs.
lithe up like a prideful little boy before a rigged game of 'the floor is lava'
and run!
run like your laces will never untie and your loaded veins will never misfire.
run through the realms of yellowing pages you cling to,
full of ball-point metaphors and crisp, eloquent descriptions of the beautiful feelings you've trained yourself to hate along the way.
i beg you to get over-friendly with your paintbrush when we reminisce this time.
run.
full-fledged, snot-nosed, scared-shitless-grinned
sprint!
run to silky cotton bedding drenched in the stench of your maladaptive daydreams;
peppered with layers of insight we've yet to discover,
and two cold pillows
that can never seem to sing your static head to sleep or fully embrace the weight of your bruised shoulders.
run like you can feel for once;
like a curious kid who's never seen a map or compass,
he just zigs and zags through the seemingly endless wildflowers at full speed as he pilots the backyard in pure and sincere bliss.
run to sun-drenched golden fields where the night sky tints itself blue to succumb to its favorite shade of darkness,
and your breath settles low on the tips of the tall grass like the fog growing over a prehistoric low-land,
and the stars twinkle like lake-thrown pebbles about to let you decrypt the gleaming secrets they hold...
and everything comes clear
and cool
and calm.
run free
and fierce
and nameless
like it's the only thing you've ever known,
run until you reach me.
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 7:57 PM UTC
Heart break.
Massive slits to breathe
After we brake off this date n.
I need ************
Patience. Everlasting love
And conceptual culmination.
Into unfathomable creation.
I need time and space from your ******* face.
And every day that goes by
Notice. **** it I
I've become. A soldier. Of lifes battle cry.
You ******* trapped me so ******* bad. That i
became a picto graph a flash away from being held for ransom.
In your scrap book. Kinda factory line
Instead I'm seeing jealous glances.
From you and my bestfriend up on your camera slides.
So **** if I.
Evoke a bitter feeling.
Can't stand it right
Sorry for the lack of healing.
But see the me beneath.
The demons.
And the reasons
We both cheated.
Is were both fractured living damaged lives
Need to
Find a sea of urgent trust.
And retrieve. What trust we must ensure. So maybe we can survive
A choral reef of deep sea meaning
Unexplored. Unless your letting random guys come and land inside...
Oh fuvk I'm getting jealous.
I know its cancerous.
And you deserve to get so mad when I....
******* dance with devils rhymes
**** the chance of metal lids
Now existing in these images
I did drugs.
We both did some ****
We made some kids.....
We got it on. Now were stuck as dad and mom. In the abyss...
With out a clue a ****** hope in hell. And not a ******* *** to ****
So excuse me
If my mood is rotten.
Think I've gotten more maladaptive.
Habits. In the 5 years we've been rocking this.
Than in some 20 ******* years.
Of smoking ***
Popping pills. And kamikaze.
Flipping quads. Until
I'm ******* knocked unconscious *****
Jul 2, 2019
Jul 2, 2019 at 11:15 AM UTC
it feels like my brain has crumbled
and there's all of this empty space
to create something new,
but the only material I have to work with
is the ruins of the old brain.
I'm rearranging the pieces.
I revisited the I don't want to live part of my brain
and moved the don't in between I and want to give up.
I relocated trauma and built it next to strength.
the maladaptive thoughts revisit sometimes,
but they never manifest into action anymore.
I couldn't destroy the I deserve this piece,
so I centered it in love and kindness.
I thought the inside of my head was built to last.
once you put clay into a kiln,
it's impossible to reshape it without breaking it.
there was hesitance before the destruction.
there was a crack, a catastasis, but a calm collapse,
and in the rubble, I saw a way to heal.
I never knew a wrecking ball could be so gentle.
Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 10:55 PM UTC
Those demonic thoughts and feelings
Were suffocating me in bed last night.
I tried to bring you back to me
And told you never to go,
I whimpered that you can never leave me.
The only problem is that you were never there
Because you only exist in my maladaptive daydreams.
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 2:54 PM UTC
There’s a black hole in my heart and a supernova in my mind.
But I don’t mind
because it lets me disappear.
And when they come probing into my brain I can
Annihilate. Them.
I crush stars between my teeth and trample them below my feet
until I am coated in a fine layer of stardust.
Maybe it will make me harder to see among the infinite darkness
that I know and love, that they hate and fear
because I am made of fire, and they are not.
The supernova in my mind caused the black hole in my heart.
Why can’t I feel?
Why can’t it be real?
And when they come bearing gifts I can
Annihilate. Them.
Numbed by my endless ice and darkness
until they break into a thousand particles.
But before that, they usually run away
because that is exactly what I want, even though sometimes it isn’t
because I don’t think I’m real, except in my own head.
The black hole in my heart destroyed the supernova in my mind
Is it even real?
Am I even real?
And when I come asking for help they have
Forgotten. Me.
Maybe because they’re all dead.
I wish the ink on my page could become your blood.
I wish the voice in my head would become yours.
I wish and I want and I dream of
the existence of you, or the nonexistence of me
But there is nothing more that I can do except let the black hole I created
consume
me
entirely.
Feb 21, 2019
Feb 21, 2019 at 6:02 PM UTC
*When you ask me
What I'm thinking about
I truly don't know
What to say
There's a world
Inside my head
That takes me far away
It takes me to
A sunny place
Where I don't have to
See your face
Maybe I'm thinking
Way too much
Or thinking
Nothing at all
But the longer I sit
In complete silence
The deeper into my world
I fall*
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 12:19 AM UTC