Raw milk, and a touch obsession

8:53 AM 8/17/10

I've been drinking lots of the Amish milk today and yesterday. It's addictive and I am drinking one glass after another, as I haven't had any breakfast yet. I have only a half gallon, and I am maybe 3/4 of the way through it, which is a good thing, because I don't want it to spoil. I am cautious about it since it's raw. It might possibly start to spoil faster than pasteurized milk. The only other raw milk I had was frozen goat's milk, several years ago, from a little store called Stone Soup, and I don't think I ever finished drinking the whole container of that milk.

It didn't make me sick at my stomach. It didn't give me that feeling of swelling in my upper right quadrant of my abdomen, where my liver is. That swollen liver-gallbladder feeling used to happen when I drank milk or ate any fatty foods, in 1999 when I was extremely sick for several months. However, it did give me a little bit of gas, but it's a trivial amount and hardly noticeable, barely anything. I'm not lactose intolerant, but I thought I might be allergic to milk. I'm not having severe allergic reactions either, as I drink this raw cow's milk.

I have had an occasional skin rash for a couple months now. It seems to happen at random times. It coincided with planting my little herb garden and eating the fresh herb leaves out of there. It also gets triggered by sitting on the metal table in the drive-thru at McDonald's, which causes all of my legs and butt to start itching horribly - probably nickel. Peter's been using some new drugs too, so I could be getting secondhand drug residues from him.

I have been having some rashes, at the same time as I'm drinking this milk, but it's been inconsistent. I think that milk shouldn't be put into a stainless steel container. Steel contains nickel, if I understand correctly. Or at least, some kinds of steel do. I think that some of the metal goes into the milk, and you can have allergic reactions to the metal, not the milk itself.

I am noticing more dyslexia as I'm typing. So I am having a Feingold-diet hyperactivity reaction to the milk, but it's still mild. I'm making, and correcting, lots of typos and letter reversals as I type, more than usual. The attackers want me to think that they're causing the typing problems, and yes, I know they're *able* to cause those incidents to happen, but that doesn't mean they're causing all of them. The hyperactive foods might make people more vulnerable to that type of attack, and less able to automatically correct it as it happens. Foods and chemicals and drugs change how you're affected by attacks.

****
I made a bunch of 'about' pages today for this blog. Those pages are probably going to be the most useful thing in the blog, because they are 'static', they stay there all the time, without changing, and people can find them easily. It's harder to find a particular blog entry that you don't remember the search terms for, if you happened to find that blog post through a google search or something. There are hundreds of posts going back two years to 2008, and I didn't categorize them or anything. I wasn't thinking ahead, wasn't trying to get readers, and wasn't planning on making a blog that was structured and easy to read and easy to search through. There is no index or table of contents for this blog. There is no particular order for the posts - they are about random things that I was thinking about, or things that happened that day, or things the voices wanted me to write about that day. I could put up a tag cloud, but that wouldn't be very useful, because almost every single post is tagged 'mind control,' for instance. And I'm not very conscious of HOW I choose what tags to use, and sometimes I don't use them at all.

*****
A social observer. In order to be that, I would have to socialize. They still want me to be a prostitute, so that I can 'socialize' the way I did in the dream a few days ago.

There are some ways that it would be nice to be a prostitute. I would get paid more dollars per hour than I do at my 'real' job. If I had several regular clients who I would see again and again, we could establish trust, so that I wouldn't be afraid that they were a serial killer, rapist, or thief. I would have some control over the hours I worked and when I worked and how I worked.

I already know a lot of ways that it *wouldn't* be nice to be a prostitute. I'm disgusted by a lot of men. I'm chemical sensitive, so I don't like deodorants or perfumes. I react to other people's drugs, so anybody using drugs would give me secondhand drug residues. I might even become addicted to a dangerous drug just by skin absorption, from being around a drug user.

Also, I still feel bonded to Curtis, and 'they' make me believe that he's jealous if I see other men. I don't know whether that's true or not, but it's what they make me believe.

My bond with Peter: Peter really doesn't know much about my day-to-day life or what I'm experiencing, or what I care about, or think about, or know about. We can't talk very well. He always interrupts me after a couple words, because his blood sugar is always either too high, or too low, or he's on drugs, so he's always uncomfortable and impatient and unable to relax and empathize. When you're sick and in pain all the time, it's impossible to listen to other people and understand their problems and their lives and the things they care about. And I always want to give him advice about how he should take care of his medical problems, but my advice is always impossibly expensive, so I don't even try anymore to say any of it to him. ('You need to totally change your entire diet; don't EVER use any artificial sweeteners, stop drinking soda, stop eating junk food, eat more fat (but it has to be fresh, non-rancid, animal fat), eat whole foods...' 'To cure your insomnia, you need to get rid of all of your furniture and clothing that has drug residues on it' (especially now that he's gotten some of the drug residues from my car, which contain ephedra). All of my advice is impossibly expensive to follow. That's why I want a religious group that will make a place where it's easy to follow my rules, because the whole environment, a whole building to live in, is designed to make it easy to live that way. Like a monastery or a retreat. I like thinking of Bill Gates saying 'A PC on every desktop,' and I say, 'A retmeishka monastery in every town.' This is when the voices are talking to me about making a religious order.)

So Peter really doesn't listen to me all that much. He always gets defensive and argues after I've only spoken a couple words of my opinion or advice. And he can't really listen if I talk about my dreams and hopes and desires. He can only feel his own pain.

My bond with Curtis got stronger again, and I started to feel hopeful about it again, just because I sat with him and had a conversation the other day. Now, I feel like there's no need to go back to the dating website, or go looking for new friends, or try to start a community.

And yesterday, the attackers were stopping me from thinking about it - they attacked me over and over again, making me fall asleep every time I tried to think about getting a husband. I need some way to support myself while I raise my children, and I can't carry my children with me to the workplace, because our society doesn't allow that, although I think they should.

So I am thinking about how to get a husband for a loveless practical marriage. I imagine it to be a loveless practical marriage because I'm not strongly attracted to adult men. My most intense sexual attraction is for teenage boys. I would have a lukewarm sexual desire for my adult husband.

This was true when I was with Eric, who was, I think, 35 when I met him? I didn't have an intense, passionate sexual love for him. I always felt like something was missing. (This is literal, too: something is missing - he was circumcised. I hate circumcision. I believe that sex, and bonding, and relationships, would all be very different if people weren't circumcised in the USA.) We had sex, and we enjoyed the sex, but I felt like I needed to have a crush on some other guy, to feel more passion and more intensity. And Eric and I fought about things, and couldn't talk about certain subjects, which was one of the reasons why we eventually stopped seeing each other. He couldn't stand to hear about the hackers or the mind control, and he would go into a screaming freak-out tantrum if I mentioned any of it.

And he was jealous because he believed that I loved John DiMoia more than him (Nerdman, from the chatroom, the guy who stopped answering my emails, and right at the same time, I started having computer hacking problems and online harassment, so I thought it was him, but actually it could have been anyone). I was being forced, by mind control, to keep writing emails to John DiMoia. I had never met him, I've never seen a photograph of him, I don't know what he looks like except that he's Italian and going bald, which is all the he told me in the chatroom. So it was ridiculous to think that I had any 'real' feeling for a real person. I was being forced to obsess about him. I would try to explain that to Eric, but he wouldn't listen to any of it.

That's different from my crushes on Martin and Curtis. They are real people who I've met and talked to in the real world. I could see that they were physically attractive, I could touch them, talk to them, be close to them. My attraction to both of them is real. But the things that I *do* to them, such as sending a particular email about a particular subject on a particular day, are forced by mind control. I am forced to say the particular words I say to Curtis and I said to Martin back when I was emailing him. I usually disagree about whether it's a good idea to say these words, or to use this approach. The attackers almost always use 'verbal attacks' which I've been reading about in my book, 'The Gentle Art of Verbal Self-Defense.' Almost everything they say and do is meant to make someone feel guilty, ashamed, inferior, or some other negative feeling, so I disagree that I should say those things. I think it's harmful to talk that way.

So I hate the things I'm forced to say to them. And I hate it that I can't tell the truth, make my own observations, speak my own words, tell them something that I just noticed that minute, ask them questions, listen to what they're saying and respond to it - I can't do those things, because my words are puppet words, written by an attacker. Many of my words are pre-recorded phrases coming from an artificial intelligence, which senses what's going on and gives me a fake scripted response to that situation.

But the intense sexual attraction is real.

I rented 'Twilight' last night. I've started reading the book, but I haven't finished it yet. I actually first saw the second movie, then the third, and now the first. I thought the second movie sucked, but I gave it a chance. The third movie kind of sucked, too, but I gave it a chance again. Then I watched the first movie... and the FIRST movie was REALLY GOOD! The second and third movies had that sloppy, careless, hasty, get-it-done-in-a-hurry, 'sequel' feeling to them. I knew that the books were probably better.

I can't explain how the second and third movies sucked. I can explain it a little bit with the Harry Potter movies: The best Harry Potter movie of all time was The Prisoner of Azkaban, because it was done by a different director, or producer, or whatever, and it has a totally different style than the other movies. Things like background music and lighting. I'm not getting into that right now because it's a long subject. But it's those kind of things that made the second and third Twilight movies suck more than the first one. The first movie was good on its own, as a stand-alone movie.

Edward is 'cold' and 'untouchable.' If he becomes sexually aroused, if he gets too close to Bella, something terrible will happen. This mirrors her relationship with her father. It's taboo to admit that you feel sexually aroused when you hug your daughter and have your arms around her. (This is why I like to read about bonobo apes. They make everything okay.) So some fathers solve the problem by not touching their daughters at all. My father couldn't touch me when I was a little baby, but they say it was because I was hyperactive and almost autistic, and I would scream, cry, and pull away when people touched me. But I grew up not being touched by my father very much, even when I was older. So I can relate to how Bella feels, when she loves her father but they're afraid to touch each other. And I can see it with Edward, too, how they can't touch each other much, but they desperately want to.

I'm going through that right now with Curtis. I want more than anything to touch him, but the slightest touch is extremely intense, full of anxiety and terror. I don't know if I'll be rejected or pushed away. I don't know if he'll say that I'm sexually harassing him, even if I touch him in a small way, like a tap on the arm. But even just a tiny tap on the arm is a big, huge deal to me. The slightest touch is extremely intense. If I've had a reaction to some of my drug residues, my emotions are amplified so much that I feel almost orgasmic if I merely catch his eye across the room. I'll start breathing heavily and I make a sort of gagging motion in my throat, the way you almost gag if you're masturbating and you delay orgasm as long as you can. (Again, this tends to happen if I'm having a drug reaction. In my drug-free state it doesn't happen like that.)

I know this because it happened the other day. I had recently told him, in a text message, not to call me his nicknames anymore, because it makes me feel like he loves me, it makes me feel like I'm special to him, but at other times he seems to reject me, and he has a girlfriend whom he'll be marrying, and I'm trying not to 'sexually harass' him, or violate his lack of consent. And we haven't been looking at each other, except from far across the room.

But I glanced at him, when we hadn't looked at each other all day. I looked up at him as he came in the door. It was wonderful to look in his eyes for a second. A minute later, he came over to me and the couple of other women working in the deli, and he was moving a shelf into the room next to us, and he said, 'hello, my [adjective] deli workers - I'm putting this banana rack over there,' and we said okay. He addressed it to all three of us, as though all of us were [adjective]. The adjective is the first part of the nickname, which I'm keeping censored because it's kind of like a security question, like 'What is your mother's maiden name?' and that kind of thing.

The nickname is a secret. The adjective is an unusual word that nobody would ever use in an ordinary sentence, so I knew he said it because I was there and I'd told him not to call me the nickname. I'm trying to think of an example so you can imagine this. It isn't a commonly used word that you would say to a group of people. 'The voices' suggested a phrase, but I don't like to take their suggestions, because it almost always means something that I don't want to say. They suggested that I give the example like this: what if the nickname was 'my fair-skinned beauty,' or something, and yes, I know that sounds silly, but it's just an example. It would be like he walked up to us in a group of three women and said, 'my fair-skinned deli workers.' It was unusual to say.

As he walked away, I saw his face, and he had a slightly nauseated, disgusted look, which was also a sexually excited look. I've seen him do a sideways smile, kind of a leer, if I've looked at him too intensely in a sexual way, and also, he sometimes looks sick. You're going to laugh at this, but it reminds me of the horses. I've seen horses in photographs, or a video, where the stallion smelled the urine of a mare in heat, and he responded by sneering his lips up into a snarl that showed all his teeth. It was a funny expression. The horse lifted his lips up like that again and again when he smelled the urine. I've seen Curtis do horse-like gestures sometimes. And that was the look on his face - it wasn't a sneer or a leer or a snarl, he didn't really expose his teeth very much, but it was just the faintest suggestion of being sickened and aroused at the same time. That sick-aroused feeling is different depending on who triggers it. If a sexually disgusting person triggers it, it feels like you've been violated, molested, raped, or had some other sexually unpleasant experience. If a sexually attractive person triggers it, that same feeling is pleasant and arousing and extremely exciting, and you want to complete it by having an orgasm.

There was another incident when he strongly reminded me of a horse. It was when I went back into his department to do a department transfer. I had to get some items from produce to use in food service. I went back to write it on the paper. I got the paper off the wall and started writing. He came over to me and stood very close to me, watching silently while I wrote, with his chest open and exposed and radiating heat. He was that close. I could feel the heat of his body. I looked at him, and I reached up with my hand, up to his chest, just under his chin. I was going to gently touch his chest with the back of my hand.

But I startled him. He couldn't see my hand, he shook his head and then lifted his head back to look at my hand just under his chin. He took a step back. I hadn't touched him, I had been very close but not touching. He probably thought that I was going to hurt him, that I had a knife in my hand or something - he's said things like that to me before, that he was afraid I was going to stab him. (I read his facebook page and he had done a fortune-telling app, many months ago, where the fortune predicted that he would die being stabbed by a soulmate.)

In that previous incident, the reason he was afraid I was going to stab him was because I was about to tell him he did something wrong, but I couldn't bear to tell it to him, because I didn't want to talk down to him. Somebody had taken the soups out of the soup cookers, and put them out for the customers, without turning off the soup cookers. If you leave the cookers on, empty, they will overheat and break. I've seen it happen. So I had to tell him he did something wrong, and I had to explain it, but I could barely speak to him, and I said, 'come over here for a second,' while I was standing in a narrow, enclosed place inside the salad bar area, where he couldn't really see me. He was afraid to come over to me, and he just stood there. I was giving 'anxious' body language, anxious, reluctant, terrified, and unable to speak, so he reflected my anxiety without knowing what was wrong. I asked him if he had taken out the soups, and I explained that they had to be turned off. He was relieved that it was something so silly and unimportant, after all that anxiety. 'I thought you were going to stab me,' he said.

So when I reached for his chest he might have thought the same thing. It surprised him. And a horse will react exactly that same way, if it's a distrusting horse, if it's ever been attacked or abused, or if it's just a high-strung horse that gets startled easily. If you reach up under a horse's head, it can't see your hand very well, and it will lift its head up and back to look at your hand. He looked exactly like that.

I tried to think of a horse-related nickname, something that would be a compliment, something beautiful, like 'wild stallion,' but that wasn't easy to say and didn't feel natural. His nicknames are beautiful compliments, so I tried to follow the same rules he was using. I thought of synonyms for horse and some variations on the name, but didn't think of one that would be natural for me to say.

I can't say any nicknames to him other than 'hey you.' That's the closest I can come to a nickname. 'We were thous' - a line from Shakespeare - we were 'thou' to each other, but you betrayed me - I think it might be Julius Caesar who says it to Brutus, but I'm not sure, it could be anyone. That's where I first learned that the word 'you' (thou) in English is something intimate, that you don't carelessly use the word 'you' to someone in a formal situation, and that using the word 'you' too much can be a form of unwanted sexual harassment, which I've experienced before. I've had guys attracted to me who kept saying 'you this, you that,' and being focused entirely on me, too much, and I didn't like it. I said 'hey you' to him when I first saw him the other day, when he first told me that the store manager was bothering him, when I asked him if he had sent the text message saying to leave him alone. 'Hey you' meant, 'you disrespected me, so I'll disrespect you.' I had to attack him verbally because I was terrified to approach him. 'Hey you' was the best way I could think of to call out to him when I was terrified to speak to him, and feeling hurt and rejected.

I got started on all of that subject because I said that his sexually aroused facial expressions reminded me of the 'disgusted' look that a stallion makes when it smells the urine of a mare in heat.

That evening, or maybe a day or two later, I sent him an email saying it was okay for him to call me the nickname if he wanted to. But I don't know if he has an internet connection right now, and if he can get his email.

I hesitate to call him at home. His wife-to-be is there. She will hear that he's on the phone talking to someone, and they might get into a fight. I'm not trying to cause a fight between them, but I want to talk to him. I've had two phone conversations with him. And I've had a brief conversation in which I told him I would leave him a message because he was at work and I didn't want him to talk on the phone while he was at work.

I've emailed her before, a couple times, and I mentioned that he seemed to be 'leading me on.' She said that he has a way of making women feel special and that I should 'take it as a joke.' But I can't take it as a joke. Everything I feel with him is serious.

This is why I can relate to it when I see Bella and Edward together, unable to touch each other, but desperately wanting to, and afraid that something bad will happen, some rule will be broken, someone will get hurt, some consent will be violated, I will be an evil monster - all of those things will happen if we touch each other and let go and do whatever we want. That is how I feel with him.

I know it sounds strange, but I can read his body language from far across the room. I can't read other people's body language that easily, or I don't care to. It's the opposite of Edward not being able to read Bella. Edward can read everyone else but her. I am able to read every nuance of Curtis's feelings by a quick glance at him from a long distance across the room. I can read his back. His back tells me how he's feeling. The change in the angle, the position, the neck, the shoulders - I can see his tiredness, his loneliness, his 'I'm turning my back on you,' (which I myself did to him the other day, so I know how it feels to do that), - and he hasn't actually turned his back on me very often, but sometimes, every now and then, he has. When we're not looking at each other. I can see it in his back when he feels small and vulnerable and needy. When he looks even smaller than usual. I saw him blushing after I gave him the note - and told him *NOT* to read it right now - where I told him I was attracted to him. The position of his neck, and his blushing face and his ears, told me how he felt, all the way across the room. The way he moves when he walks.

One time, his back said 'touch me.' I had touched his back several times during a period of weeks or months when we were together a lot in the evenings, alone. One time I stroked his back gently because he offered to carry something for me, instead of letting me carry it, because I was sick that day, and I walked behind him through the doors to go back to take out the trash.

It was sometime after that. He stood close in front of me, not far from me, and the shape of his back said he wanted me to stroke his back again. ... And I didn't. I didn't do it. I was terrified, and I wasn't on the right drugs, probably, and I didn't want to sexually harass him or violate his consent. Because if I stroked him, I wouldn't want to stop. That's the same thing Edward is afraid of - if I start, I won't be able to stop, and something bad will happen and I'll hurt you. I wanted to walk up close behind him and put both hands on his back and press against him from behind. I wanted to cup his shoulders in my hands and press my face against his back. I wanted to reach around him and stroke his chest and his belly. He stood right in front of me and his back seemed to invite me to touch him. And I don't want to violate him, or I'll get rejected and hurt very badly.

I'm obsessing about guys, love, sex, and touch, because I haven't eaten breakfast. So I should go eat something. This obsession will go on and on forever, until I eat something. I will always think of one more incident to tell about. So... I'll go do that.

LOL, I tagged this post 'curtis.'  As if that will be a useful tag.  Anybody randomly searching for the name 'curtis' will find this blog.