The Bitch War. Lies and obsessions and rambling. Reflected feelings.

9:38 AM 7/21/10

(*This one's a bit rambling and disorganized. I'm not writing at my best. I woke up, had a cup of coffee, and haven't eaten any breakfast. When I do that, I'm writing while hungry and caffeinated. Hunger causes obsession about guys. This is obviously the 'obsession' kind of blog post today. Going on and on about the same thing in detail, and not writing very well, and not having any kind of conclusions or decisions.*)

I've started to feel REALLLLY paranoid about the person answering Curtis's text messages. Now I'm curious to see him in person and see what he says and what he remembers from 'our' conversations. I've been fantasizing about using disinformation (lying) to see if anybody slips and believes the lie.

Actually, this might be 'their' idea - it was what I've been thinking about this morning since I woke up, and I've been laughing hysterically at some of the ideas. They said I should mention about how Curtis's nickname for me is 'Whiskers' and he loves my mustache. Carrie said she herself grows facial hair, so I was going to make it sound like Curtis loves my facial hair the most about me, and Carrie should try growing hers if she wants to compete with me. I should talk about the time he called me 'buttercup' (which, in reality, he called HER that name once on facebook, so it would be like he was calling me the same pet name he called her), or talk about all the times he's grabbed my ass or brushed his hand against it - I can make it sound really believable, because there actually WAS an ass-brusher, but it wasn't Curtis, so I can describe in a realistic way about how he would 'accidentally' tap his hand against my butt when he walked by in small spaces where two people can't fit easily past each other, that kind of thing, and I'll have lots of realistic details, and I can sound really paranoid, about how I wasn't sure at first that he was doing it on purpose, but then I decided he HAD to be doing it on purpose, because it happened again and again.

Lies are destructive, and if I started a disinformation war, chances are it would have some harmful consequences, and I'm not trying to destroy or destabilize their relationship, especially when she's taking care of him by letting him live with her, and I CAN'T let him live with me, because I have drug residues here, and I can't explain it to anyone else, and my fridge still has bone marrow vapors in it. The things I'd have to explain are too weird and unimaginable.

But I could have a bitch war with Carrie. I've worried about that a little bit. A bitch war is a scary thing. I thought about bitch wars a few months ago when I had an incident with a girl who worked at McD. Her name was Whitney, and I don't even know if she still works there. She happens to know Curtis and his ex-'wife' Kayla (the one receiving child support), and she said she was living with Kayla. She once asked me if I knew Curt. She asked me that shortly after I sent him a text message for the first time, and I got paranoid that Whitney might be getting Curtis's text messages. (This is why I always mention people being puppets, where they might be forced to say something or do something at the exact moment that would lead you to believe they were hacking or spying, when they weren't.)

Whitney was an aggressive, reactive type of person, always arguing and fighting with people. She was loud and extroverted. That was my impression of her. I didn't know her very well. I was a little bit afraid of her. One time I came in at 10:00 and got ready to use the headset and take orders in drive-thru, and I took some money from a customer and put it in the cash register. People aren't supposed to share the same drawer in the cash register - if one person is using it, then ONLY that person must use it, because somebody could steal money, or make mistakes, and you would get blamed for it. But on overnights, we all use the cash drawer whenever we have to, because sometimes I might be all the way across the restaurant and I'm not close enough to get there quickly, and someone else might be standing right there when the customers drive up, and it's usually a manager anyway, so I let them get in the drawer and think nothing of it. So I thought nothing of it when I got in Whitney's drawer when I took the money from the customer.

Whitney freaked out. She started talking over the headset to someone else about 'Guess who I found getting her hands in my drawer? She was getting all in my drawer and messing up my money...' She made it sound like I had the drawer open and was rummaging around in it just for the hell of it and messing up the money and doing this gleefully and deliberately and maliciously and laughing while I did it - that's the mental image I had from the descriptions she was giving, from the way she said it. I was this evil malicioius thing like a gremlin or something deliberately messing things up and causing chaos and stealing her money and getting her blamed for it. She totally exaggerated what had happened, like there wasn't even a customer at the window when I had the cash drawer open, like I somehow just opened it up with the key or something and was moving the money around and taking stuff out.

I had to settle this with her and I apologized and told her I didn't realize that it was a big deal, because on overnights, it isn't. She said, 'You NEVER get in someone else's drawer!' I knew most people didn't react as badly as she did, but even so, I learned to be more careful and make sure they changed the drawer first.

Whitney was like that, always getting in a fight over something small, so I started to wonder what would happen if she and I got in a bitch war. I've sometimes had the theory that it's actually WOMEN who are responsible for my becoming an electronic harassment victim. Usually I imagine them as men, or the military, or random criminals who are usually men. But sometimes the 'Competing Females' theory makes sense too. Females can destroy other females just as viciously as males can destroy other males. And it's true, I was being attacked for a very long time, but not as badly as I have in the past few years, so SOMEONE was attacking me, but the worst of it began right after my Judith Swack therapy, so I thought she was doing it. Again, though, I can remember things going on long before that. But once in a while I get the 'hostile females' idea anyway.

I could imagine a bitch war, sort of like that Judy Blume book, 'Blubber,' where a gang of females are tormenting another girl. It scared me - I wondered how far they would go, how malicious they would be, would they destroy property, that kind of thing. Would they cut my tires? Tell lies about me to destroy my reputation? Send destructive computer viruses? It seems scarier to me to imagine fighting against females, because they would be more competitive and less sympathetic to me. I've always felt that men would hesitate to attack me, that they tend to feel protective.

Anyway I was thinking of all that with regard to Carrie.

But I don't WANT to get in a war with her, and I'm not planning to. Still, 'they' amused me this morning with the lies that they imagined telling.

I'll see him soon, so we'll find out how much he remembers from our text conversations. It would seem pretty obvious that I could just ask him about our text messages, but the last time I did that, he rationalized that he must have written it while drunk. I had asked him about the mean letter I got from MySpace when I was, briefly, his MySpace friend for like three days before he de-friended me. He was confused and he said, 'MySpace? I haven't been on MySpace in, like, months. I always use Facebook.' When I asked him again about it later, he told me he had been drunk every night that week - it was the week that he found out he was losing his license for nine months. So he explained it like that, that maybe he was drunk when he sent the mean letter to me. He would probably do the same thing if I said that I'd had a long text message conversation that he couldn't remember having.

I don't think it would help if I started telling lies and then seeing who repeated them. But it was a hilarious fantasy for a few minutes anyway. Telling them he's been calling me 'buttercup!' That's not the name he calls me. He really did call Carrie buttercup on facebook though. I'll probably fantasize a few more hilarious things that I could say, but in reality, I won't do them. Or, I hope I don't. Again, I'm not trying to harm their relationship, not when he's in this vulnerable and helpless position of needing a place to live, and needing someone to drive him around, and Carrie's the only one who can do it.

If I told lies, I should tell lies that make him look like a really nice guy. The person I'm talking to keeps saying 'no' in the text messages, while Curtis himself seems to say 'yes' in real life. So I could make up a story about how I tried, and failed, to seduce him, or something like that. Remember the time when... when I tried to do, whatever, and you said no, you had a girlfriend. That kind of thing. Or you said Carrie was the only one for you. And actually, he did say something like that when I tried to ask him to let me talk to him on the phone once, and he said that there wasn't much time to do that because he was working a lot of hours and then spending the rest of his time with his girlfriend. That annoyed me, because I wasn't calling just to chat, I was calling to settle my mind about what kind of relationship he and I have, so I can move on to another guy. Because I can't move on: the memory of Curtis inhibits me, and also, the voices attack and they tell me lies, and they tell me Curtis needs me, when actually, he probably doesn't need me and he probably doesn't even remember that I exist when he leaves Weis and goes back to his own world.

How can I believe one thing is true, but also believe what the voices tell me? The voices lie to me using my weaknesses, my false hopes, my wishful thinking. They tell me things that seem believable. For instance, it really is believable that Curtis MIGHT be attracted to me as a woman and not just a friend, because, in reality, I HAVE had boyfriends in the past, for many years, so obviously SOMEONE finds me attractive once in a while. And the 'somebody is hacking the text messages' theory makes a loophole that no theory can escape from. No matter what he says in text, I'll always wonder whether maybe someone hacked the message.

Why do I avoid calling him? Well, I HAVE actually called a couple times. I have left a few voice mails. He never calls back, or if he does, he doesn't leave messages. He has answered the phone twice and talked with me for real, but we haven't been able to get relaxed and trusting and used to each other, so that we can talk openly about 'our relationship.' I can only talk about such vulnerable subjects in writing, not out loud. It takes a lot more trust and relaxation, and we have to spend more time together, and not be rushed. It takes longer, and I have to test each statement, each risky little thing I say, carefully, and say one small vulnerable thing, and get his reaction, and then say another small vulnerable thing, and get his reaction, one by one, statement by statement. Talking openly about sexual attraction, and about physical touch, is vulnerable. Questions I can't ask: Do you like it when I touch you? Do you want me to touch you more often than I do? Do you want me to touch you in a loving way, like giving you a hug? Do you want me to touch you in a sexual way? I hardly ever touch him, but when I do, I swear, I SWEAR that I get the feeling he likes it and he wants me to do it. And if I DON'T touch him, I get hurt feeling vibes from him - not just 'hurt,' but 'I'm disgusting, that's why she won't touch me' or 'I'm needy, and I can't ask her to touch me.'

It happened not too long ago. We were working together in the morning. I had seen him in the back room when I was on my way to do something, probably to go to the cooler to get chickens. We said hello and we were chatting a little bit. I was relaxed and enjoying myself, but I also felt rushed, because in the morning, I have to hurry to get certain things done by a certain time. I forget what we were talking about. I was probably just asking him about his DUI thing and what was going on in his life right at the moment.

I felt that I really wanted to touch him. I had touched him recently, I think. That might have been after the day when I went up and scratched his shoulder and then petted him, so he was aware that I could touch him, and remembered it. But I restrained myself, I didn't do it, and I just separated from him, and went away and went back to work.

I remember I mentioned, as I was walking away, that I had had an incident where I spontaneously started coughing and choking really badly, and I was coughing for like twenty minutes afterwards. My throat had been irritated during the time when I was drinking cream in my coffee (I've finally stopped doing that, regretfully - the cream is actually addictive and I miss it), and I was having a problem with my voice box seeming to have a tumor or a swelling or something which was giving me a scratchy throat and making me lose my voice. And I think it was the murderers attacking me, when I would spontaneously start choking out of nowhere for no reason - I think they did something to burn my throat - but they were attacking an irritated area that already existed. I already know that they've made me have a tickle in my throat before, and they sent me a link to a web page that described radio frequency weapons that irritated the cells - the cells that have to do with allergic reactions - I forget. It's usually done to make you gag or vomit, but this particular attack only caused lots and lots of coughing. So it was a combination of already having an irritated throat from the cream, and the murderers attacking it and triggering twenty minutes of coughing and choking. That had happened to me, and I mentioned it to Curtis as I was walking away. (I didn't mention that I thought 'they' had caused it to happen.)

I said something like, 'So, everyone thinks there's something wrong with me, but there really isn't.' Everyone noticed I was coughing and choking and they asked if I was okay. It was embarrassing. So at that moment, I felt like a weirdo, like a loser, like somebody disgusting and strange. But that feeling was happening at the same moment that I was walking away from him, without touching, when I felt as though I needed to touch him.

I use the 'I'm rubber, you're glue' theory a lot. I'm rubber, you're glue, whatever feelings I feel originally came from you. I often notice that I have a feeling during an interaction, and that feeling seems to belong to the other person. I don't know if this happens in the real world, or if it's a fake feeling caused by the murderers. However, it's well known that people 'pass along' feelings by making someone else feel that way: for example, if parents are beating and abusing a little child, that child will go to school and he will bully and abuse the other children, passing along the feeling of being a victim and being attacked and helpless. That's well known. But I think it happens with more subtle feelings, with more complicated feelings, about social inferiority usually, not just with something about being beaten up. Or sexual rejection. It can come from subtle things we say and do, or subtle things in our body language or tone of voice. (That's why I love books about communication skills. They actually talk about these things. This book I'm reading now mentions the 'melody' of the voice, the intonation, the songs we sing when we speak a sentence.)

So the feeling I felt, when I looked at him, when I looked at his shoulders from behind - his shoulders were hunched down in a way, and he looked ashamed, and pathetic, and disgusting, and needy. He looked rejected. I had walked away without touching him. I can't tell which feelings are my own, and which feelings are his. I can't tell if I project feelings onto him, or if I read his own feelings accurately. But I avoided touching him because *I* felt needy, disgusting, and pathetic. I passed that feeling along to him, and it seemed like his shoulders were expressing that. I don't know how I see it, but I can read the position of his shoulders. I've seen it many different times in different situations, where some tiny angle of his neck and shoulders expresses 'a thousand words' of feelings.

He reflects and resonates feelings from me and has done this in many of our conversations. So it might not even be his own.

I should go ahead and post this - I should eat breakfast instead of obsessing and I should stop this bad-writing-quality disorganized rambling.