Lost in Shit by Noah Cicero

I want people to understand this.

I am a man that lives in the Youngstown Area of Ohio.

I think if it wasn't for the internet i would have never tried to get a book published or short stories.

I probably would have just written, and maybe made little zines to hand to people.

What i did before the human war was leave the last manuscript at a few people's houses that I knew a lot of people hung out there.

Like "Joe has a lot of friends that come over, his place is party central. I'll drop the book off at his house."'

Usually that would result in like ten people reading it.

If it were not for the internet I would not exist to you.

I really don't exist to you now.

I'm here, in Youngstown, sitting in a house made by the steel mills made of cinder blocks. I work as a dishwasher, have no higher education, and if you saw me walk by you in a mall, you would probably think i was poor white trash.

I have found myself in a strange location.

My job and any other job that my lack of education might get me surrounds me with poor people who have felonies, who go to jail, have DUIs, etc.

It must be said also, to be honest, that most of them never read. And the ones that do read, read purely out of pleasure.

Like the cook at the waffle house reads, but to him, books are either good or bad. No literary analysis takes place. Which is fine. The cook at the waffle house is a good man, so there is no reason to talk shit about him.

But at the same time people say, "move to new york, there are people there with common interests."

I've gone to new york several times and the only thing i think i have in common with those people, or you people as i know new yorkers read this blog, is books.

If you came to my house and looked through my movie collection or my CDs or downloads. We wouldn't have anything in common.

Like last night I watched Alien vs Predator and i listened to Skid Row on youtube.

Someone could say, "Isn't there a college in Youngstown, what about those kids?"

Youngstown State University is not a college, it is a glorified votec. Besides its Engineering Program which I guess one of the best in the nation because of the amount of industry in Ohio, the rest of the majors are like cosmic jokes.

Everyone I know who graduates from YSU goes to Las Vegas. Las Vegas like contacts random nameless universities and gets their graduates to go there and teach and work in casinos.

Most people in the youngstown area sniff coke, or "powder". Even the middle class kids, and I don't sniff coke.

Not sniffing coke in the Youngstown area places you in like instant, "You think you are better than me" status.

Let me tell you, if you sniff coke, Youngstown is the place for you. You can go in any restaurant and just ask the server, "Does anybody have any coke we can buy?" If that server does not have it, for sure another one does or the cook.

I'm getting older also, the friends i used to have, have either gotten married and had kids, moved away, or smoke crack.

I want to say this, for the people who wrote nice comments in the last post.

I think I'm mentally ill.

Actually everyone tells me I am, usually the word "crazy."

I've never been able to work a forty hour work week, it causes me to freak out real bad, i start think that my life is being stolen, that I will die, my arms become taut, my mind spins out of control, i can't think, i start to go crazy inside.

That really bad when i tried to go to school.

The first time i tried to go to college i ended up in the mental ward, i was so terrified of not getting to class on time and getting everything done right, i just went nuts.

I have this horrible thing where i have to be to things on time. I start to panic horribly if there is even a chance that I might be a minute late.

I started working when I was sixteen, so in ten years I've only been late to work twice.

I start panicking tuesday if I have to be somewhere on thursday.

The next time I tried to go to college I ended up freaking out really bad and running away to New York City and sleeping in my car. This was before the human war and I didn't know chapman. I walked around for three days, I didn't tell anyone I was there.

I don't know what is wrong with me, I just can't perform the functions that normal humans do.

I'm really obsessive and I can't turn it off.

If I start thinking about something, if it be Chekhov or being on time to the dentist I can't turn it off. There is no changing my mood or thoughts.

The doctors said I have this disorder

It is called Schizoid Affect Disorder.

It is a lovely one.

When I went to the mental ward in college they kept asking me if I was hearing voices.

I don't know why they asked me that.

They put me on seroquel on Risperdal
on Effexor
on Wellbutrin
and remeron

I'll tell this: Wellbutrin and Effexor causes you to lose weight. And Remeron is like instant fat ass.

Wikapedia has a page on Schizoid Personality Disorder

I'm reading and going to list everything I have common with it:

"Consistent preference for solitary activities."

Today I drove to a lake and walked on the ice by myself. Just stood there on the ice smiling by myself. Some kids came and started making noise and I had to leave.

"Very few (if any) close friends or relationships and a lack of desire for such."

There is bernice and before that there was none.

"Indifference to either praise or criticism."

I read a good review, a bad review, it doesn't matter, it amuses me that someone mentioned my name that doesn't know me.

"Taking pleasure in few, if any, activities." I take pleasure in reading, strip joints, and ice cream.

"Indifference to social norms and conventions."

Yeah, that's right.

"Preoccupation with fantasy and introspection."

Bernice says I dwell in self-analysis.

"Lack of desire for sexual experiences with another person."

If I had once every two weeks I think I would be fine. If I could afford a whore every two weeks I would never date anyone.

"One patient with SPD commented that he could not fully enjoy the life he has because he feels that he is living in a shell. Furthermore, he noted that his inability distressed his wife. According to Beck and Freeman, patients with schizoid personality disorders consider themselves to be 'observers rather than participants in the world around them.'"

The hammer hit the nail with that one.

"feel lost"

I wrote the title of this blog post before reading that.

"However, when the patient's personal space is violated, they feel suffocated and feel the need to free themselves and be independent."

I fucking hate talking about myself in person to someone. Like when people talk to me and ask me personal questions I fucking hate it and stand there staring. But like I'm talking about it on this blog, it is like if it said to people that i don't know, it is okay. But if you were sitting next to me, this would not come out, i would start talking about Chekhov or my sweet jetta.

"People with SPD are sometimes sexually apathetic, though they do not normally suffer from anorgasmia. Many schizoids have a normal sex drive and prefer to masturbate rather than deal with the social aspects of finding a sexual partner. Therefore, their need for sex may appear less than for those who do not have SPD, as the individuals with SPD prefer remaining alone and detached. When having sex, individuals with SPD often feel that their personal space is being violated, and they commonly feel that masturbation or abstinence is preferable to the closeness they must tolerate when having sex."

This is true. I prefer to masturbate than deal with an actual human. The "social aspects" of finding a sex partner is hell to me. I have never in my life flirted or did anything romantic. The female either gave it up without seduction or I didn't get any. If she played hard to get for like two minutes, i just give up.

I do have the anorgasmia thing also, I rarely can have an orgasm with another person. If I do, they have to turn over on their stomach and face away from me and I'll jerk on their butt. it is like if they are looking at me, then something happens, i'm not sure what, but it disturbs the whole process.

About the author:
Noah Cicero maintains a Web site at http://noah-cicero.blogspot.com.