I was probably born angry. My earliest memories are of being rageful and feeling like I was fucked over. Probably because I was the second kid and the baby of the family but I got dick in terms of attention. My parents were in love with their firstborn, a boy who was real extroverted and jolly and cute. My mom entered him in a cute baby diaper contest in the mall and he lost to some other baby but there is a giant picture of him in the saggy diaper with a second place sash on his body in our house. In the middle of the living room hanging like the Christ so if people came over that’s what they saw. They didn’t have as many pictures up of me. In my baby pictures I was always scowling like you were showing me some catshit. Because that’s what god and life was doing at the time.
Some more bad stuff happened in the seventh grade when I was walking to school and I got hit by a delivery van when the driver had a heart attack and passed out at the wheel. The van ripped my right foot off and it flew really unnaturally far off in some bushes so by the time they found it it was actually all stale and covered with ants and they couldn’t save it. So I had to be a cripple. And still feel like my right foot itches even though it fucking doesn’t because it fucking got ripped off.
My parents got some money as a settlement for my phantom foot but they spent it on my brother’s braces and his shiny new bicycle and summer camp. I often wondered how cripples and quadriplegics and other freaks could be happy because it’s a miserable life but I interviewed some of them later on when I got a chance like if I saw someone in a wheelchair breathing through a tube at the bus stop or whatever and I would ask them about their lives. And most of them said the same thing. That they got a lot of attention. That they were the center of their family’s universe. None of them said that outright I mean not too many people have the humility or insight to admit they are totally self centered and that they revel in it like pigs in shit. But that’s what was going on. It was relatively easy to figure out when they were like “I have a very supportive family… my mother built this extra wing in the house for me with a special shower and gym… I interview girls to light my weed pipe for me and stick their cute little rubber gloved fingers up my ass to get the shit out and I always make sure I hire the hottest youngest ones…”
Of course these answers came from people who had some money. The poor disabled people of which I was one were not so happy. They were working crappo jobs or unemployed like pretty much everyone else and they were expected to just handle it and shut the fuck up about their extra problems. A lot of them get some government assistance thank god for that I don’t bedgrudge anyone their government assistance. I didn’t get much help from the government as a kid except for some free haunted house beige prosthetic feet but that was better than nothing.
Oh yeah and incidentally I shouldn’t have used the pigs in shit phrase. Pigs are smarter than dogs and really smart and loving. And they aren’t dirty. They have very sensitive skin, just like a human’s, and they cover themselves in mud so that they don’t get sunburns or bug bites. And if an organic farmer installed a little outdoor shower for the pigs so they could pull a cord and the water would come out they all get in line and use the shower every day. I saw a documentary on it.
Anyhow I left home at 18 because my biological family was so gross. I spent some years working awful jobs night and day and being really poor. I was working like a mutherfucking slave and I still couldn’t pay all my bills or buy good food. Then at 27 I contracted pneumonia and didn’t have health insurance cuz I couldn’t afford it so I ended up in major hospital bill debt. I lost my current poop job and almost got evicted from the one room apartment I was renting when miraculously I got this job at a printing company delivering whatever pamphlets or corporate propaganda some company had printed up and I would deliver these to them in a timely fashion. I’d applied for the job before I got sick and they called after I got out of the hospital. I did the interview when I was still on antibiotics. I eventually became the assistant project supervisor there and had hiring capability and was making enough to afford my own car and rent a small house and buy a really good prosthetic with a silicone sleeve and titanium base.
I could be good with people on a professional level but I didn’t have any real friends because I deep down nurtured a resentment at people in general because my introduction to them had been through my family. Then I got diagnosed with celiac disease after getting really sick and being all inflamed with red eyes and what was I thought was Irritable Bowel Syndrome until I finally got a homeopathic doctor to do the celiac test on me because my regular GP was too ignorant to think I needed it. Celiac disease is an autoimmune disorder of the small intestine and you end up with bad fatigue and all kinds of inflammatory issues and diarrhea. It was very rare until they started genetically fucking with the wheat. That was something I learned, that even though the government says they have not allowed Monsanto Genetically Modified wheat onto the market, almost all the world’s wheat production is GMO and has been since the fifties. They took wheat in the fifties and exposed the kernels to toxic chemicals that caused DNA mutations and then irradiated them with xrays to cause more mutations. They did this to make the wheat have more starch (which incidentally means way more sugar plus there is this super addictive binge-causing chemical in there too) and way more gluten (the protein in wheat that people with celiac disease react to, and it turns out most of the population has an allergic reaction to as well).
Big Agro is still doing this today- seedless fruit and high oleic oils are good examples of genetically modified food. It’s just that the current legally accepted definition of GMO is when part of the gene sequence is altered or deleted using gene splicing technology. It makes no sense that using poison and xrays to alter the genetic sequence isn’t considered genetic modificaton because IT FUCKING IS!!! And what really pissed me off was the guy that invented this Frankenstein wheat got the Nobel Prize and the Congressional Medal of Honor and shit all because he thought he was eradicating world hunger and these other morons thought so too. Instead, he paved the way for Monsanto and Big Agro to take advantage of small farmers in this country and others because SURPRISE! this new fucked-with wheat needs a lot more pesticides to grow. There were people who criticized this scientist’s work, they said it was bad for people’s health and the environment and for local economies. He didn’t listen to them though because I suspect he was a fucking egomaniac. Even organic wheat is made with this poisonous strain that got invented so many years ago.
When I learned stuff like this I just got angrier. I didn’t have a constructive way to deal with information like this. And then I’d end up somehow translating it into more rage at my parents for their neglect and abuse. You can’t pass on something you haven’t got. I had never been given love by like anybody. Yeah my parents had never starved me or raped me but they did hit me and never hit my brother. And the psychological abuse was much worse than the physical. They didn’t kiss me goodnight but they kissed him etc etc. So I nurtured dark fantasies of revenge. One time there was a girl at school when I was fourteen and she kicked me in the prosthesis in the school parking lot and I fell down. She and her friends laughed. I tried to get up and beat the shit out of her but I didn’t do it fast enough and they got away.
I sure hated her. I nurtured the dark fantasies about her too, very intricate ones. Like in one she is jogging on the school track and this black limo pulls up and a guy steps out and grabs her as she’s rounding the curve and he sodomizes her with a martini shaker and bashes her over the head with it and pushes her out into the gutter. I come upon her and cradle baby her broken body in my arms like The Pietà and I yell for an ambulance and I ride with her to the hospital and she likes me after that and kisses my ass ever after. Later in real life I heard that she’d moved to LA to be an actress and someone did break into her apartment and raped and murdered her. A part of me was glad. Does that make me a bad person. Probably.
Naturally I gravitated towards men who were fucked up and gross like I was. I met this one guy at a gluten free cooking class I was going to and he seemed nice enough but energy attracts its own level and sure enough he turned out to be one of those sickos that’s likes to hogtie women and shove pineapples up their pussies or whatever because he’s still so angry at his own mommy. He was a raging drug addict alcoholic too. He liked me to administer vodka and speedball shots to him and then let him beat me up while both of us wore tacky black latex and put metal clothespins on my nipples and run electric current though them and whatever else was on the menu for a couple weeks. Then he suggested we go out in the woods and do this adolescent goofball body mutilation shit out in the glories of nature.
So we went out there and he tied each of my arms and legs to a tree (he must have already found the place and planned it beforehand because there were four trees and they were growing close enough to tie someone spread eagle to them.) Of course I was naked. Then he left me there. We had hiked in like four hours and I was out in the middle of nowhere. For the first day I thought this was part of his game and he was going to come back any second. Then I realized he’d left me for dead. And I did almost die. I was out there for five days. But then some aliens found me and took me up in their spaceship and healed me. For real.
And I am no longer an angry person as a result. I passed out around day three because it was hot (we live in Central Florida) and I was real dehydrated. It was a blessing to pass out because I was worried ants were going to find me and eat my eyes and pussy first. That was like the most fucking disgusting bad thing I could imagine happening and it probably made me pass out. So then I woke up and I was with Them. But let me tell you, when you’re up there you’re in a sort of different level of consciousness, it’s not this huge shock. It’s like dreaming a little bit. The beings were grayish and had soft shiny skin that looked too delicate for earth’s gravity and atmosphere. Sort of like a dolphin skin but without the density you can feel in one of those dolphin’s rubbery bodies.
Some of the beings were taller than me, like eight feet tall. They had giant heads. Some of the beings were very small, like four feet tall and they also had heads disproportionally large for their bodies, compared to the human being body/head ratio (which looks like a caveman Neanderthal body when you put it next to an alien one). Their eyes were giant and dark like an insect’s eyes but they also glowed, I guess with astral energy though because there were no pupils really. But life and intelligence and kindness shown out of them. The ship was all glowing light and silver, like light was glowing directly from the silver.
They seemed to have an enclosure that sort of looked like it was a bubble built of glass and inside the bubble there were canisters suspended in air, like just floating there, and they were glowing neon green. The aliens would go sit in there and absorb something from the green canisters, maybe they fed like plants by manufacturing fuel from light sort of like photosynthesis, I don’t know. They might just feed directly on the energy of the universe that rises up through your chakra system when you have an orgasm. And speaking of which, they didn’t have genitals. They were smoothies. I think they bred by just gestating a new baby alien and growing it in one of those canisters. Or maybe they were able to birth it right out of the ether, like manifest it from there, I’m not sure.
I might normally have been upset when they held me down on a table and inspected me, but they explained they were helping me and I telepathically knew they were telling the truth. It’s like how at the ER you give your permission to the doctor to do what they need to in order to help you. They didn’t hold me down with physical force. The big ones were around me and I guess they held me down with their minds. And they spoke in a robot voice like they were speaking through a voice scrambling device like what criminals use when explaining how to drop off the ransom money. They said they were going to heal my intestines. They shoved something up my ass the proverbial butt probe and it kind of hurt. Or I thought it hurt. Then they let me off of the table and brought me to something that looked like a hot tub with the bubbles on but the fluid looked like glowing purple plasm and there was no container holding the plasm, unless it was some kind of see thru force field. We stepped into it and then the glowing lavender plasm stuff began to rotate like a slow whirlpool and I went around and around in this tub for a while. One of the aliens rode with me.
Then they showed me space through a porthole type window aperture. I think they were telling me things the whole time. Stuff about taking care of myself and the other living creatures on earth. They said there was a being on earth who had finished all his karma and that they wanted to continue to evolve and finish all their karma too so they could be like him. Wasn’t sure what they were talking about. It was pretty busy up there. The memory that is most strong in my mind is that there was good vibes up there. I felt safe and cared for and respected.
They dropped me off after that and I came to in the clearing in the woods. But I wasn’t tied up anymore or thirsty and all fucked up. I was able to find my clothes and backpack that loser had stacked behind a bush and walk back to the base parking lot. They had a public restroom there and I got a drink of water from the fountain outside. Didn’t even throw up, the aliens had rehydrated me. I walked further down the road and after about an hour caught the local bus and got back into town.
I went to the cops to report what the guy had done to me, I figured they maybe wouldn’t believe me because I didn’t look all tore up but wanted to at least have it on the guy’s record in case he tried to do it to someone else. But it turns out one of his neighbors had complained about a stench that morning and the building super busted in and found the guy liquefied into his couch. He’d tied me up in the woods, then driven home and shot up and OD’ed. Fitting end I say. They probably had to burn that couch in hell.
After my experience I did some research into other alien abductees’ experiences and found in some ways they did mirror my own. Although some of them were pretty pissed about the butt probe. They just hadn’t realized it was a healing tool so they wouldn’t get ass cancer or something. The research was very interesting, because there are people all over the world who have seen UFOs or been up there with them. A lot of them said they were changed people after they came back. I know I was. I was more philosophical about my resentments. I just was different. I realized I wanted to release some of that stuff and have more peace in my life. It wasn’t coming from a noble or mature place, I realized I just wanted peace is all. And to keep my body safe from here on out. I kept eating good gluten free organic foods, and I started taking long walks after work and even meditating.
I am active in factory farm animal rights now, and also into organic non-poisoned food. I did a march for NO GMO’s this year. A hundred thousand people across the nation turned out. I got into therapy with a very competent therapist and she gave me these writing assignments for how to reprogram my brain to not be angry. I’ll give you the title of the book that has the directions for how to do it at the end of this. This method really has continued to help me. I am weekly emptying the garbage in my brain so something more normal and happy can grow in there. I of course do not interact with my family, but I have grown way more non-attached about what they did. If they wanted to be loving and respectful to me maybe I’d give them a chance but they are still dismissive and shitty so fuck them. I can find other people in my life who will care about me. Your family doesn’t have to be the ones you were born with.
I haven’t started fucking anyone else, but that’s because I’m being more picky this time. It’s a nice thing to look forward to though. And get this- I actually got a promotion at work. Once they found out I hadn’t just ditched my job or gotten murdered, they were happy to have me back and I am now a manager of my own division. It’s a bigger paycheck. That promotion was wonderful. This job had always been the one good thing in my life, and it was a big deal, because it gave me security-financial independence. There were a lot of days I wished I could kill myself when I was real poor. So once I got the job I wasn’t poor. And I felt some relief from the worry and was able to get stuff I wanted like my state of the art prosthesis. And then I began to shine in the job and enjoy it. And I got credit for doing well. But I will say now, it sure does feel good to be non-self destructive at something else besides work. I am like a full-fledged human being now. And I have some other-than-human-beings to thank for it.
P.s. The book I use in therapy is called “The Process” by Isa Moore.
Copyright © 2013 by Kim Campion