Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Loving a Six; Survivor's Joy

I'm not sure where to start.  Writing a blog is different from writing in my paper journal at home.  In the paper journal, I don't worry about what the voices are forcing me to say, because nobody is reading it.  But when people read the things they force me to say, there are consequences.

I make lots of mistakes when I try to guess people's enneagram types, including my own, especially because they constantly attack me whenever I try to look within myself to understand.  I can't think a single thought without being attacked, so I have to passively wait while somebody else suggests enneagram types and then 'tests' me to see if I fit that type.

I picked up a different enneagram book by a different author, and it made it easier for me to understand Type Five.  I fit the description in that book better than the Riso and Hudson book.  The R&H book is very abstract.  'Fear of being overwhelmed' and 'the world is closing in on you' and that type of thing - it's hard for me to see that in my real life.  But in the other book, she described it more like, being afraid to feel.  Feelings are too intense, so you avoid all strong feelings.  If something makes you feel too strongly, you avoid it.  That's more understandable to me than the description in the other book.  I forget the author's name, but it was on the shelf above the R&H book at Barnes & Noble.  Anyway.

I thought this guy was a Six very soon after meeting him.  Again, I make lots of mistakes.  (I thought Morpheus from the Matrix was an Eight, but now I think he's probably a One.  And 'they' have sent me around and around the enneagram trying on, like, at least five different types by now, not knowing what I am.)  But I think this guy is a Six.  He has issues with fear and courage, authority, defiance, phobic and counterphobic behavior, trust, and most of the other things that go with Six.

I'm using the L-word, the four-letter L-word with a V instead of a K, because, in my old age, I've decided that it's okay to use the word 'love' to describe the feeling that I have for some people.  I think that I stopped using the word 'love' because of the fights I had with Terry as a teenager.  Terry used to interrogate me every time I said that I loved him.  He would question it and doubt it and out-argue me by saying things that didn't make sense.  I couldn't win an argument against him, because he would make statements that were totally illogical and I couldn't even understand the idea behind them.  Every time I said I loved him, it led to a big fight about whether my love was real and whether I would still love him tomorrow and what I would DO to prove that I loved him and whether I was lying or telling the truth and whether I was really human or just some evil demon wearing a fake human costume.  It was impossible to get him to believe that I loved him.  So I had to avoid using that word if there was the slightest weakness or uncertainty in it.

So I've gone all these years saying that I don't love this person or that person, not for real, because of all these reasons, like, 'I don't know him very well,' or 'We don't spend much time together,' or 'I'm not planning on marrying him,' or whatever.  There's always a reason why I can't call it love.

'They' started urging me to use that word again, with Peter.  I've done things that demonstrate that I love him.  I even moved to Bellefonte to be closer to him, when I had to leave the duckpond apartment, and I hate driving a long way to go to work and to go shopping in State College, but I did that for Peter.  It felt terrible being stuck in State College while he was stuck in Bellefonte after they became unable to drive their cars (he and his wife both cannot drive right now - he lost his license because the doctor took it away since he gets low blood sugar, which makes you drive like you're drunk, and his wife can't drive because of some insurance and paperwork problems that haven't been resolved).  That's just one example.

I've been thinking that there's no such thing as a perfect relationship.  For a long time now, I already believed there was no such thing as 'The One,' your one single soul mate, the one and only person you ever will love, out of the seven billion people on earth and out of all the future people who will be born, only one.  I don't believe that.  I think it's possible to love many different people, and each relationship is unique, and you love different people in different ways for different reasons.  It's true, sometimes your feelings are stronger or weaker, more intense or less intense.  Some relationships are easier or harder, healthier or unhealthier.  But there isn't a perfect relationship where you can get everything you need from one person.  I always used to think that the 'perfect' relationship would be called 'love,' and I'd be able to use that word to describe it, but only that perfect relationship.  Now, I'm changing that.  I can call it 'love' even if they aren't the one-and-only perfect ultimate soulmate out of all the humans in the universe.

I'm afraid that either he or I will get fired or quit, and we won't be able to see each other at work; and then I won't be able to call him or text him, because the phone will get hacked, and my messages will get blocked.  Right now we've had a few back-and-forth text messages, not many, but a few.  I still can't get him to say 'yes' or 'no' to anything.  He gives me very, very small 'yes' signals sometimes but I have very strong denial and disbelief - I believe it's hopeless and futile and I shouldn't bother trying.  My urge is always to give up and quit.

He brought his new girlfriend with him one day and I saw them walking around together.  At first glance I thought she was his mother (I know his mother, I used to work with her) but then I looked again and realized this was some new person I hadn't seen before.  So there was a few minutes of torture where I could see them and I could not stop myself from looking, and at first I was smiling, happy to see him, and then when I figured out that this was some unknown female, I stopped smiling and started feeling like I wanted to cry.  Some random person gets to walk around with him and be with him for hours and hours, while I don't get any time with him at all, barely a few minutes, once in a while if we're lucky enough to work together, and we have to constantly worry that we'll get in trouble for talking instead of working, so we can't really talk at work either, and yes, there is a real risk of being fired right now - lots of people really are getting fired, and they didn't even get a warning.  So basically I can't talk to him at all.  I don't even know how he met this girl or how long they've known each other.

Then he came over and talked to me, and all of a sudden I wasn't feeling as miserable, and I was able to talk and it seemed like it was okay.  She's nice enough and she seems like a type Nine.  She reminded me a bit of Caitlin, who also seems like a Nine.  (I could be wrong - it's only a guess.)  I was grateful that he was being nice to me, coming over and saying hello - that seemed like a nice thing to do - it made me feel somewhat better anyway.  (From another way of looking at it, it seems like he's 'being mean' instead of being nice - after all he's walking around with his girlfriend in front of me when I've told him how I feel.)  But not being able to get any clear communication, not being able to get any clear 'yes' or 'no' or 'what time is a good time to call?' kind of thing - that's what's frustrating me right now.  I can't even call him on the phone 'as a friend.'  I can't even get him to say that I'm a friend and that we are able to talk to each other or hang out together as 'friends.'

I've given him a couple paper notes along with text messages.  I gave him a note recently and when I handed it to him, he looked at me, and all of a sudden, I had to leave very quickly.  It was involuntary, I had no control over it, I had to walk away.  I held up my hand to sort of wave goodbye, but it was also to block him out.  This is what I mean about avoiding strong feelings.  If I am too close to him or if I look at him I have to stop looking.  It wouldn't be so bad if we were away from work.  At work I am constantly afraid because of the context:  'I'm gonna get fired, I'm gonna get fired' is the thought that's always in my mind all day long at work.  I'm going to get fired because I'm not doing enough.  I have chronic fatigue and chemical sensitivity reactions and it's always something, I can't get much work done, I'm gonna get fired.  So anything that puts me at risk of being fired is very threatening.  If I see him or if I'm close to him, I can't touch him at work, and if I get the slightest urge to touch him, I have to walk away or distract my attention or do whatever I can to stop it from happening.

I'm going to have to log out and log back in in a minute here.  But the phrase 'Survivor's Joy' is something I was saying to myself recently.  I have told him a little bit about the misery and suffering my life, about the problems I have, the things that I'm worried about.  But he's never seen me when I was happy and safe and didn't have all these terrible things going on.  The joy underneath the misery is my big 'secret'.  I'm not keeping it secret on purpose.  It's just something nobody can see.  They see that I'm sick and tired all the time, that I work too many hours, that all my projects are postponed, that I still haven't had any children, that I can't finish writing a song, that I can't sleep at night.

'Survivor's Joy' means that when these problems are taken away, I will instantly bounce back to being happy again, if I don't have to deal with the drug residues anymore, and if I slept at night without being attacked by the murderers waking me up.

When they're testing and interrogating me, they ask me what he has to gain in a relationship with me.  Then they try to say (speaking for me instead of letting me speak for myself) that the 'correct' answer is that I'm supposed to be this knowledgeable person who's doing big, important things, like starting my own religion, changing the world, fixing the problems in society, that I know things nobody else knows, and I talk about things that nobody else talks about, and that's what he's supposed to gain by being with me.  But that's not the answer that I want to give.

Why would somebody want to be with me?  Because I have this joy underneath the misery that everyone else sees - this misery feels temporary - it only began recently, in adulthood, but I had a good childhood and I still see the world that way.  The murderers, the chemical sensitivity, the exhaustion and insomnia and working too many hours while the IRS takes away all my income, and the fiat money system combined with the property taxes raises the land prices so my rent is too high... all these things began after I became an adult.  Feeling like a slave and a victim of attackers that I can't avoid, and overwhelming health problems - that's all anyone else can see when they look at me.  But I've enjoyed being alive, sometimes, and I hope I will again.

I expect that in the future, a lot of these problems will change or be gone and I will have a chance to be happy again.  I see the problems as temporary.  The murderers are always there and they always attack, now that they've begun attacking, and I'm not saying that the murderers are going to suddenly stop being evil and insane and inhuman.  I'm saying that, even in spite of the murderers, some of my problems can still be solved and some of my life can still be improved.  And I'm not in the mood to talk about what needs to be done about finding the murderers and stopping them from zapping people, and preventing new attackers from doing it, and hunting them down and finding them when they do, and shutting down the entire system that's being used to attack people - I'm not talking about that right now.  I'm just talking about the relatively small problems that are making me suffer right now.  Some of them are solvable, and when they are gone, I will immediately be much happier and much more at ease.  That's the phrase 'survivor's joy' that I am talking about, surviving something and being alive again after it's over.

Every time I talk about hope, or about things getting better, or about being happy in the future, the murderers immediately threaten to attack me, and they did it just now while I was writing.  As soon as I started talking about this, they started threatening to find more and more terrible ways to constantly ruin my life so that I would suffer a neverending burden of terrible misery forever.  They told me that they were going to find some new problem for me to deal with as soon as I fixed the problems I was dealing with right now.  That is why I call them evil and insane, because they cannot just leave people in peace.  They are not doing any good for the world, they are doing evil, by not leaving people alone.

So they want to make it look like I have some secret knowledge or special skill that would make it worthwhile to be in a relationship with me.  But I don't.  All of my 'knowledge' is knowledge that came from misery and suffering, and to me, that doesn't count as real knowledge.  Joy and happiness are just as real as pain and misery.  I know how to prevent and cure certain kinds of health problems; I know how to do other things that I've learned or observed or read in books, but that's not the same as my knowledge of how it feels to be happy and alive.  I want to share something good with people in my relationships, not just my misery.

I have been very unhappy for a very long time now, and it goes on and on, and there's always some new problem that resulted from the murderers forcing me to do new 'experiments' that are intended for me to 'learn' some terrible new danger that I didn't know about, some new poison or drug or chemical that I never encountered before, some new method of attacking and hurting people, some new way of hacking computers to spy on me wherever I go, some new way of reading my mind and controlling my thoughts and destroying my soul.

From everyone else's point of view, it looks like it's just me, doing stupid things to myself over and over again - that's what my parents think.  Anytime I've written a letter home to my parents to tell them good news, the murderers attack immediately - for instance, every now and then in the past I'd write home to tell them that I got a raise at work, or something, and my parents would be happy about it, and the murderers would instantly cause some disaster to happen to destroy my parents' approval - they always responded very strongly if my parents ever approved of me for even an instant - one of their main goals has been to make me look really bad to my parents.  My parents don't believe in electronic mind control, and they say that I'm just crazy and I'm hurting myself because I'm crazy.  The murderers want them to believe that.  Ruining my reputation, especially my reputation with my parents, is their goal.

That is why I call them insane, because they can't just ignore me and go their own separate way and leave me alone - instead, they have to be focused on me and obsessed with me and competing against me and having their pathetic little egos threatened by everything I do and by every success that I have and all of my talents and intelligence and all of my achievements.  I don't even know them, I don't even know who they are, but they're obsessed with me and they won't go away.

Let me mention that there are different ways of attacking someone and different degrees of how bad it is.  If somebody made a homemade cheap little device to put voices in someone's head and they occasionally talked to someone that way, it's one thing.  That is a relatively small type of attack.  The attack that I am complaining about, the total life-ruining attack, is some kind of 'beam,' and I call it that because I have no other way to describe it, since I don't know what it is - it is some kind of beam that follows me around CONSTANTLY, as in, every second of every minute of every hour of every day of the entire year.  It literally follows me constantly no matter where I go.  It puts music in my head, constantly, in the background, and words into my mouth, constant speech, and it zaps me if I try to think a single independent thought for a single second of my own free will.  That is the life-ruining soul murder that I am complaining about.

So if some random person just made a homemade device to put voices in my head occasionally, THAT'S NOTHING in comparison to the system being used to follow me everywhere I go, and it is a much, much, MUCH smaller crime in comparison.  I don't know how it's done, so I can't describe it, and it doesn't necessarily HAVE to be a 'beam,' it could be a 'field', I don't know, an electromagnetic field that surrounds me but it's broadcasting a frequency that only I can hear, or something.  I am comparing those two types of attacks to put it into perspective, because the hatred I feel towards the 'system' people is much worse than what I feel towards the random criminals using low-tech equipment that they bought or made at home.  And yes, those random people are able to do terrible damage too, but so far I have been lucky - the worst attacks were in the beginning, and those mostly stopped happening, and now instead I have the constant surveillance beam-or-whatever.  I think that I am lucky, in comparison to all the other attack victims that I've read.

Eleanor White said somewhere (I probably won't be able to find it on her web page) that she doesn't like to talk about electromagnetic hypersensitivity because it will 'derail' the conversation into the wrong direction.  She doesn't want it to take away the focus on criminals attacking.

However, I disagree with that somewhat.  It's true, the murderers attacking is much worse than just the background radiation that surrounds us.  But if you don't understand electrosensitivity, then you don't understand why the murderers attacking and surveilling constantly is so harmful.  A very low-level, weak radiation, beamed at you all the time, for the purpose of 'watching' you, is actually not just 'watching,' it is also disturbing and disrupting and influencing you.  I think of something called 'Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle.'  You can't know the exact position of a molecule, while also knowing its exact velocity (speed and direction), because in order to look at the molecule, you have to hit it with something which will knock it into a different direction.  The same thing happens with people.  When you shoot them with a surveillance beam, they behave differently, because the weak, low-level beam is disrupting their body and their mind constantly.

I call it soul murder or 'soul-time' murder, because it prevents your soul from expressing itself in the limited time you have on earth.  If you stopped attacking them, they would immediately come back to life, so it's not total permanent murder of the soul, it's 'temporary suppression.'  But since they never stop doing it, it is in fact permanent.  It goes on for years or decades, totally destroying lives.

Anyway, electrosensitivity explains why even the weak, low-level surveillance beam is harmful.  It disrupts the very weak, subtle signals in the brain and body in many ways, making people constantly uncomfortable and unable to function.  So it's still helpful to read about electrosensitivity even if you believe that the attackers are much more important to worry about.

I don't have much time left on this login, so I'll do a quick check to see if I missed anything and then I have to go.

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