Maybe I am psychotic, but I don't think that I am.

I'll break this down in the format of a list for brevity.

1. January 1992, Hearing voices, went to hospital, They found I had a brain tumor.

2. Feb. 27th. Had brain surgery (left frontal lobe). Things went very well. No more voices. Went home.

3. Next few years. Went home. Started losing it again. Had visions and dreams, that the earth was a graveyard and I was desperatley searching the graves looking for my body and identity. I became convinced that I was not human. I could distinctly remember when I left wherever I was and came to this world. I was brokenhearted over not having a place or people of my own. I was maddened by the fact I didn't know who or what I was. I would write in my journal constantly. One morning while looking through a window the fog came down and I could since my place was out there somewhere. They were calling for me and I knew I could leave my body and join them but a sense of responsibility held me back even though I so desperately wanted to join them. I was always seeing spirits and hearing voices. I was put on Haldol and desipramine. Everyone said I was ill (crazy). I believed them. I still felt alienated from humans.

4. Three doctors later. Dissillusioned with my progress, I quit taking the risperidal I was switched over to and decided to take control of my life. I took the route of Rene DesCartes and decided that everything wasn't real that didn't pass the test of cold hard logic. I reframed my life. I trashed religion, God, belief systems, everything. All input was merely evidence. I started a list of questions and a list of those things I could prove to be true.

5. Regress almost a lifetime. I was always an outcast. I was always starving for information. I was always in love with every living creature, plant, or microorganism, I saw. I couldn't read enough books. I always felt as a child I had some sort of something no one else had, but I couldn't place my finger on it. I felt that animals understood me better than humans. I have never felt human, and I have never, to this day been able to understand them. I have two pit bull friends because I feel they are as much alienated from the race of man as I am. I have a manx cat, a toad, a King Snake, and a house full of plants. I had always feared humans.

6. A few days ago... I am scouring this websight and click on "Wanderers". It piques my curiosity. I read the description of these beings and can't believe it. They all were wrong. There are others like me. There are others who don't believe they are human. I go to a few other WebSites and find that my new beliefs are hand in hand, practically, with what you people believe. Now I have to wonder; Was I, am I crazy??? It hit me right in the heart. I know I am not human-- I also know I am not good enough to be anything else. I feel elated that I have been vindicated by this new information and yet I feel sad that I will have to keep it to myself. Humans can't tolerate anything outside of their own little belief systems. They would think me mad if I were to discuss such things openly so I guess my world will continue to be as lonely as it always has been. Do my words sound like those of a madman?

Woody 6031@cwv.net