Tag Archives: rage

i’d like to say no i’m not a predator

Am i or am i not? To tell all of U the truth, lying would be easy. Oh “NO” i’m no longer a predator. Thats what i would like to tell U, and myself. Truth is though despite very good meds, years of self introspect, honesty and my faith. I’m still very volitile.

Not that i want to be. Predatory not so much. However that doesn’t mean i’m not. My mind is still screwed up, when i get mad or upset i still have violent sexual thoughts, and violent desires. When threatened i automaticaly want to strike out and hurt the other person.

Not because i enjoy it like i use to. I get scared and its fight or flight. I often feel like i cant run, so i want to fight. But what is still predator in me is how i want to fight. I want to destroy the other person. And yes i still get pissed off at women. Not often, but most of the time when i do. I think about hurting some of them sexually. Sorry but thats how my screwed up brain works.

I wish more than any of U know that i didn’t think or feel this way. It goes against every bit of my being. My brain works weird like that. I think ” bitch i’d show U. ” Its sad really, pathetic little man shit, and i’m ashamed i think that way. I don’t believe i’d act on it. But i never thought i’d assault a c/o either.

So truth is people i’m still a predator after all these years. I believe i’m gaining better control of my rage and feelings. Only time will tell. And believe me, i hate that part of me more than any of U ever could. Like i said, i’d like to say no i’m not a predator. But that would be an out and out lie.

The one very important thing i take great respect in is honesty. I’m honest w/ myself and all of U. I have to be or this blog would be bullshit. Any way thats what i have to say about that. Thank U all for supporting the blog and each other.

-Brent Brents 5-5-18

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I don’t wanna fuck up

I haven’t had my manic depression meds since they moved me, December 18. I’m up and down every day, to the point of having rage in my brain.

I’ve been begging these people to put me on Abilify like they promised me. I’ve put in 5 kites [written requests]. And I’m still waiting to see the psychiatrist.

I want to mellow out. The shit is getting to my brain. I understand what’s going on, and I can only remove myself physically from so many situations.

I can’t read. Can’t focus. I need to get on that medication. I’m depressed. Then I get manic and start feeling bad things and I come back to my cell.

I don’t wanna fuck up.

-Brent Brents, January 17, 2018

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i hated his ugly little hood rat glasses so i smashed them too

Dear Amy,

So yes, i fucked up big time. Did i plan for it? No! Was i fully aware? To a point. Yet i just did not have control of my mind. When the young man hit me i was nonplussed. Confused. Like what the hell did he hit me for. Clearly i had put my hand down and was on the retreat. But my mind went way back in time to when Ron hit me in the face and hurt me really bad. This kid was weak Amy barely any force behind the punch. But i saw Rons huge fist slam into the left side of my cheek, and this blinding rage hit me so hard so deep that i was going to kill this kid. And I comenced to do just that. I don’t really remember what i did but it was bad. My knuckles are still scabbed over and painfully swollen. Almost 30 days later. I was officially arrested and released into DOC custody. The DA has not said explicitly what for. It really doesn’t matter. I will plea to whatever they bring.

I’m very sorry i disapointed you. I can’t explain the rage. I know it was partly PTSD related…Man what a fuckin idiot i am. I just can’t figure it out why can’t i stop it when i see it coming. I makes no sence. My brain was screaming at me to just Just listen to him. But my hate and bitterness over road all senses. I scared the poor kid and he punched me. I deserved it i know that i did. I bated him into it. What really surprised me is that i didn’t end up pretty broken up under that pile of 10 cops. My right face and forehead were road rashed and my back was a bit sore from the knees. But oh i hated his ugly little hood rat glasses so i smashed them too.

I don’t know where my head is at Amy. Mostly disapointed and pissed off at myself. I Don’t Know what going to happen. But when i do I’ll let you know. L ya Rockstar.

-Brent Brents 1-9-17

Note from Amy: This letter followed a phone call where I was told that Brents had beaten a prison guard, who thankfully was not killed but was indeed injured.

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Rape was a murdering of the soul

So I’ve heard this lately (It was consentual.) Holy crap it enfuriates me. How do 5 year olds consent with a man shoving a penis in their asses repeatedly. Or an unconcious woman consent. These guys use this to make it ok, or make themselves less responsible. I know I’m No better than these guys who tell me this. I tried the same crap for a minute. Yet i came to the reality that they (the victims) did not consent. By saying it was consentual, I placed the responsibility on the victims. I just can’t see why i needed to do this. It didn’t make me feel any better. I still knew i was predatory. I still knew Rape was a murdering of the soul.

Don’t get me wrong that same person Resides within me. But i know i have to constantly be aware of how i am thinking. When i get angry or anxious i become that person again. I don’t rage as often as i used to. I credit my pysch meds for that. But still i rage inside sometimes.

-Brent Brents 2-20-15

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Thank you sir can i get a higher Dose

If i get an erection these days i feel shame. I hear the ridicule and voices of those who hated me for what i had done to them. It’s weird I honestly can’t get an erection because of my meds. You might think i am humiliated or feel imasculated because of this. Truth be told I couldn’t be happier about my inability to get or sustain an erection.

Why well it seems pretty straight forward to me. I have fantacies, i get erect, I hunt, my rage builds, I Rape and assault. That was me 10 years ago. Now i have fantacies or thoughts, of Raping, or being violent, my penis feels some like a warm twitch and thats it. No super desire to masterbate to the fantacy or thought. I simply can’t feel physicaly. And it helps me to control my thinking and physical desire to release that hate and rage of the violent fantacies and thoughts and it is the same for the normal fantacies and normal thoughts of sexual relationships. So I am Impotent thanks to psych meds. Whoopi. Thank you sir can i get a higher Dose. I can’t tell you how great it feels to be unable to fallow thru with the fantacy or thought. Who knew Impotence could be such a welcome thing.

-Brent Brents 4-3-15


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Fighting flashes of hatred and rage

Note from Amy: Apparently I set this letter from Brent Brents aside in order to post several blogs from it and then got too busy. I uncovered it today on my desk, hence the reason why it’s dated from April. So here’s the first of several excerpts to come from that letter:

So i want to share something with you that has been going on in my mind Lately. My outlook on life has so freakishly changed these last few years. For example this empathy that continues to grow inside for others and the plight of humans everywhere. Don’t get me wrong I still harbor some bitterness, and hatred toward my family (parents). And I don’t trust any man…I’m getting so sick of death and violence. Rape, Domestic Violence. all of it on TV. Read about it in newspapers. And worst of all thru war stories told by cold and brutal men who are only steps from my own cell door. And within this cell, in this head is a brain that is constantly telling itself No more violence. Fighting flashes of hatred and rage. Trying to unlearn old habits. Pushing pride and ego aside, to make room for humility.

–Brent Brents 4-30-15

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the leap from feeling the pain of loneliness to Rage

In February 2005, Brent Brents went on his final and most horrific crime spree, of which I write about in Diary of a Predator: A Memoir,  the book that is based upon his case. Recently he sent me a letter reflecting on this awful anniversary, and this is what he said:

I hate this part of February. I still can’t forgive myself for any of it. Valentine’s Day is like this big ugly reminder of all the hate, rage, and lost feeling. Over the years since I’ve been back in prison, I’ve come to realize that being Lonely really does fuck up ones thinking If you let it. Add Loneliness, Anti Social, and rage and you get one very cowardly, angry person who truly doesn’t know how to enteract or Communicate his desire to belong. I really didn’t have the mental health stuff all in check like i thought.  So it was easy for me to make the leap from feeling the pain of loneliness to Rage.

Once i began I didn’t want to stop. The more i did, the more i wanted to release the rage i had kept inside all those years. It’s difficult to reconcile me Then, to me Now.

Why is it we fight the Mental health Diagnosis. Years ago i was told i should probably be medicated. Maybe it would have helped. I can’t say for sure. But i doubt it i liked my drugs and the violence to much. But Now i enjoy the drug free life, I like knowing i have No stress over certain things in my life.

But the bigger truth in all this is I am constantly learning New things about emotions. I like this feeling of Compasion. And empathy is painful but necissary to really understand people and their feelings. Plus it helps me to feel like a real person.

-Brent Brents 2-11-13

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like a train roaring through my head

“Violence ‘speaks’ of an intolerable condition of human shame and rage, a blinding rage that speaks through the body.” –James Gilligan, author of Violence: Reflections On A National Epidemic

When Margaret fought back I became almost overjoyed. I
literally could feel my Blood rushing into my head it sound
like a train roaring through my head . . . it was hitting her
in the back of the head that was getting me off . . . remember
seeing a meat cleaver on the counter and thought it would
realy feel good to smash her skull. Then I like woke up and
was totally different . . . how fucked up is that.
—From Brent Brent’s journal, as featured in Diary of a Predator: A Memoir

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the real threats of Grief, heartbreak, empathy

OK I wrote this thing on grief. Hopefully it makes Sense. I didn’t write it until i felt it was Natural and Not forced. I know i don’t think or see feelings like most people. So i can’t force things.


Like empathy its an emotion i struggle with. I have grief for lost grandparents and friends, and even pets.

I have a guilt about Grieving for my lost childhood, due to the abuse i went thru. I became a sexual being much to soon, so i lost the discover that comes with a young man’s virginity. I also did cause others to go thru the same grief.

My years in school were Not pleasant. I really Miss Not having a Normal school life. I wanted to be in 4H and play baseball, and football, go to prom, Graduate, and eventually go to College. But i was literaly to stoopid to go to college.

Oh I’m Not feeling sorry about school. I simply grieve the growth i missed. I educated myself acedmecly during my  years in prison. OK so i need spell check to be installed in my brain on a permanent basis. But i feel good that i have a much wider education than many kids get today. And I am sad for them.

With my educational growth as a young adult i also grew emotionaly. The bad part is i embraced distructive emotions. These emotions Blocked me from being rational. I couldn’t be empathetic, or grieve normaly. Anger and rage, selfishness and refusal to take off my blinders, Black and White thinking, Abusive behavior etc. These I used to protect myself from the real threats of Grief, heartbreak, empathy. The Simple ability to feel anything other than self loathing and hatred for others.

Once i started letting myself experience grief without an anchor or rage or hatred, I was litteraly able to take a deep breath and release it, and know I’m OK.

So when i hear a story or see a TV show about something i missed in life, I know its ok to Grieve for it and not Let rage and hatred control my reactions.

So I may be wierd because i like grief. But liking it rather than Not being able to breathe, because i can’t get past rage and hatred. Yea i can live with being ok with grief and the natural feelings it causes.

Brent Brents 10-14-12


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IRS-Instant Rage Syndrome

A few weeks ago, I got a message to this site for Brent Brents that said in part:

“…i am the child of a monster as you know. We have the same father. I think we have a choice in life i choose not to be a product of my gentics.You made a choice to become what you are.”
The message was from a woman named Shelley, who is Brent’s half sister. She and her brother David were children from Brent’s father Ron and a different wife. Like Brent, they were both physically and sexually abused by their father. Unlike Brent, they were both removed from the home after the father threw a 3-year-old David into the television set.
Also like Brent, Shelley says she has struggled all her life with something she calls IRS, or Instant Rage Syndrome. Her saving grace, she said, was having children; she swore she would not repeat the pattern of violence.
I sent Brent her message, and he wrote back:
First of all i am sorry that he hurt you and David. And that it damaged you two in ways i am all to familiar with. Having said that, you may or may not be thinking coming from me, it’s meaningless. Please know in my heart i truly am sorry. Six years ago i wouldn’t have gave a shit about you or anyone else.
Secondly, i spent roughly 30 + years using his bullshit as my excuse to fuck the world and get all i could. I chose rape because i knew the emotional toll it takes on a persons soul. I don’t use excuses or copouts anymore. No excuse is good enough to warrant all that i have done over the years.
My eyes are wide open Now, my heart is no longer black with rage. I even feel love, compassion and empathy. Alot of people assume that i feel sorry for myself, for ending up in prison. That was the case at one point. Now i know i belong here.
Amy told me about your rage issue. We share that you and i. I can be fine and happy one minute, and the next something so tiny can set me off. I avoided Mental health Meds until about six months ago. Oh Man what a help. Some of the side effects really suck. But honestly i regret Not having been open to them 20 years ago.
Having said all this i truly am sorry Shelley that you and David had to suffer the ways you did. And i am also sorry about David. I know first hand what being Rons child is like, And it sucked to watch him Literaly Fuck us and beat us all to a tiny spec of collective obedience of God Ron worshippers, brain washed and scared to death.
I am really not angry any more. Mostly Sad…
It’s None of my business, but it seems like we all somehow have a Mental health disorder or disease. As you have aged have you gotten better or worse? Mine seems to have gotten worse over the last 10 years. So much so that i have to take a staggering amount of drugs to maintain from hour to hour-day to day. My rage got to a point of helplessness. I Literally Could Not explain to anyone how it felt to have this Hateful, bitter rage, Combine this obsessive, compulsivety for violence and sexual violence.
Shame and regret are Constant companions. None of what i did to those i hurt makes any Kind of sense. I get to see my face in a mirror 3x a week and all i can see staring back is the one person i swore i would Never become.
Don’t think i am trying to soften you up. Trying to be all Brother and Sister. Quite frankly, there are only two people i trust and want any kind of relationships with. It’s all i can handle…
And yes Shelley i made choices. Ones that haunt my every minute of my life. Your post on the website reads kind of bitter. Amy said it may be because there is No One left in our family to lash out at. So if it’s me you lash out at, I am Ok with that. It’s Not a Martyr thing. I just know how it was when my outrage fell on deaf ears.
And most importantly Shelley it does my heart good to know that at least one of us can carry on this families blood, without the violence and sickness. I have to close now my tremors are getting to bad to write.
B.     -Brent Brents, 12-18-11

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