Harmonic triads; failed stalking; facebook; the murderers

10:02 AM 10/20/10

I knew already that the enneagram types can be grouped together in various ways. But I somehow overlooked the Harmonic Triads grouping. Maybe it wasn't in the two books that I had, or maybe I just skimmed it quickly and never really saw it.

One, Three, Five: Competency Triad
Two, Seven, Nine: Positive Outlook Triad
Four, Six, Eight: Reactive Triad

This is helpful for creating fiction story characters. In fact, all of the enneagram, and also Ichazo's Instinctual types, and also the Myers-Briggs types, and any other personality typing system, can be helpful for an author trying to create believable characters.

The Competency Triad: Under stress, this group sets asides their feelings and focuses on doing the job, in one way or another.

The Positive Outlook Triad: Under stress, this group denies that there is a problem, and says, "All is well," in one way or another.

The Reactive Triad: Under stress, this group has a strong emotional reaction which they feel they have to get out in the open before doing anything else.

I thought it was funny to see that type Eight was in the reactive group. You know how the evil character in a movie will just stand there talking to the hero, before he tortures or kills them, and he has to explain the details of his evil plan, and how it all worked, and why he did it, and it always gives them time to figure out a way to escape? It turns out that that's really what would happen in real life, lol. The evil guys really DO stand there talking to you before they kill you.

I've always been like that, as a Four. I've always wanted to 'explain myself' somehow before getting down to business. I used to write essays in school, and before actually getting to the essay, I would write an introduction explaining why I had some kind of a problem with this essay or whatever. That was back when I was much more ADHD than I am now. Nowadays, I can write an essay, reluctantly, if I have to, without explaining any personal background about how hard it was to write the essay, or what other ideas I had instead. But I write thousands of pages of blogs instead!

I understood what they meant when they said that the Reactive Triad wants to get their feelings out in the open to find out whether they can trust the people they're working with. Do you agree with me, or do you disagree? Are we able to work together on this, or are you working against me?

Anyway, I was reading New Moon (Stephenie Meyer) and I finished it last night. I've never read the books before - I only watched the movies - and I only did that because other people said they were reading, watching, or liking them. I was curious. It turns out that yes, I like them too, although they're not my all-time favorite books of my entire life, or anything like that, and I might not reread them again and again.

People are making fun of 'sparkly vampires' and saying that they're not REAL vampires, and you should watch this or that TV show or movie instead, because it has REAL vampires in it.

However, the vampires aren't really the main idea of the story. It's a love story, and it doesn't matter if they're vampires, werewolves, zombies, mummies, aliens, serial killers, evil dictators of a foreign country, or something else. What matters is the idea of loving someone while having some kind of limit or restriction between you so that it's difficult, or terrifying, or dangerous somehow, to be close to that person, to love them, to touch them, without somehow getting hurt very badly. That's the idea that I can relate to, even if it isn't literally true in my life. It's true enough. I have a terrifying, incapacitating, crippling fear of rejection. When I love someone, when I feel intensely attracted to that person, I also am terrified to express physical, sexual love towards them, to touch them even in just a friendly way, to express any need or desire for them at all. There are lots of reasons for that, but strangely enough, other people feel that same way even if their reasons are different from mine. Enough people can relate to this feeling that they're eagerly reading those books and the books are very popular.

******
I tried to find Curtis today, but didn't find him.

Is this something 'they' are making me do? Yes, and no. They're reminding me about him. They're putting voices and images in my head to convince me that he needs me and wants me, when, in reality, I think it's probably 'out of sight, out of mind' - now that he's not seeing me at work, he can easily forget that I exist, and move on with his life. Unless 'they' are reminding him about me, too.

However, the *feelings* that I have for him are real. I still love the sight of his face and his body. I have photos of him and I enjoy looking at them. I still feel that he is beautiful, sexy, cute, lovable, and a friend. I still feel physically attracted to him. I still feel that he is a friend, and he could be like family. But there are also limits and restrictions. If I ask too much of him, I will be painfully rejected and humiliated. I am terrified of that. Also, because he is no longer a co-worker, my visits to him are forced and artificial. I can't just wander past him on a whim. It has to be planned and deliberate. And I am doing it without his consent, against his refusal.

'Something to live for.' Don't anybody take this the wrong way. Let me explain what I mean. I am reluctant to do the 'chores' at home, my unpleasant tasks and projects, because it seems like life is not worth living, and if I waste all my time doing unpleasant chores, it destroys the time that I could spend doing something I enjoy, like writing and reading. So instead of doing the work I need to do, I write and I read. Sometimes, the murderers burn me whenever I think about, or try to plan, or try to do, the chores and the work I need to do. So that makes it not really my fault that I avoid doing that work. They really do burn me or give me other impulses instead of letting me do all the chores and projects and tasks and errands I need to do. I'll be driving my car to Wal-Mart, and they'll suddenly give me the idea of going to Barnes & Noble instead, even though I really need to get important stuff at Wal-Mart, and even though I really had intended to go there. When they give me that impulse, I usually go there. The impulse is fake. It would not happen in the real world if I were not the victim of an attack. It does not come from within. It does not originate inside me. It is a fake impulse. I wonder how many people on earth would be living better lives if they were not the puppets of the murderers, destroying their life and their energy and their activities and the time they spend and every word they say and every thought and feeling in their heads?

But in spite of all that, it is still hard to do chores and tasks. And I am reluctant to do it unless I know that there is some kind of long-term improvement in my life, something to live for, something to hope for, something that will be better in the future.

(The murderers are making the side of my hip 'slip' down the edge of the chair right now. They will die for doing these things to people. It is the 'slips' that cause the most pain and suffering out of all the attacks that I experience. Other attacks going on are less noticeable and they do not cause pain as directly. They are unconscious. The 'slips' actually cause severe pain and distraction. The slips make an extremely high-pitched noise, ultrasound, which causes pain in my ears. It is always my hips and my butt that they make 'slip' whenever I am pressed against an object or surface. They don't usually do much to my hands and arms, although when I'm sleeping, they sometimes make my fingers twitch loudly against the scratchy paper surface that I have covering my bed. Anytime I'm in a position where my hips or butt are pressed against a surface, supporting my weight, for instance if I'm crouching or squatting in a store while reading a magazine and leaning against a wall, they will *always* do the slips where my hip or butt touches the surface, and it makes the high-pitched ultrasonic sound that hurts my ears and causes intense distraction, pain, and rage. When that happens, I have to shift my position so that it's my back supporting me instead of my hips, and I have to push very hard against the surface so that it's more difficult to make it slip. I shouldn't have to worry about this. I shouldn't have to feel the unbearably loud high noise and feel the pain it causes. I have to wear earplugs all the time when I'm at home. The slips don't cause the pain in my ears whenever I have the earplugs in, but I still hear voices and get other attacks in my head with the earplugs in. I just don't hear it as loudly whenever they make noises in the room around me. As I said before, the murderers will die for doing these things. The attackers are mentally ill - not the victims.)

So... back to 'something to live for.' Doing this task, this mission, of stalking Curtis, of giving money to him, is supposed to be my 'reason to live,' my one thing to look forward to. Whenever I try using myspace to meet other people, or anything at all, the voices, the murderers, accuse me of 'playing games with Curtis,' as though Curtis actually gives a shit or knows that I exist or cares whether or not I meet other people. So they won't let me meet other people to care about so that I can look forward to them. Instead, they want me to be totally focused on Curtis and nothing but him, right now.

They want me to: waste my time unproductively, get rejected and humiliated, destroy my money, and destroy the hours of my life chasing after someone who doesn't want me, but is too 'nice' and gentle and tolerant to be able to say 'no' to me. After all these emails back and forth to his girlfriend, and also to him, telling him that he has to make a strong boundary so that I will quit stalking him, he still isn't able to say 'no' to me. He can't say yes, and he can't say no. But it will happen, one of these days, when I do something sexual to him and it makes him uncomfortable. I might get away with hugging him, and he might get used to it, and he might be able to tolerate it and even enjoy it a little bit. But if I start acting sexual, he will get disgusted and reject me and then I won't even be able to hug him or touch him in a friendly way anymore.

(The murderers are still slipping my hip against the chair right now. They will die. The vigilante assassins will take it upon themselves to track down the murderers, find out where they are shooting from, and kill them red-handed while they are standing there pushing the buttons on the weapons that they are firing at the victims. They will fall down dead with their weapons still in their hands - let the police find their bodies there and let the ignorant police officers learn the hard way that these weapons exist - they pick it up off the ground and say, 'What is this thing?' and take it back and figure out how it works and test it on each other - so that the police will finally believe the victims who go to them asking for help - so that you go to them and ask for help and nobody says, 'Are you taking your medication?' It's regrettable that it will be done by vigilante assassins. It would be much nicer if the police themselves would track them down, and be kind enough to put them in a comfortable jail cell, alive. However, that's not happening, and all I can get is 'are you taking your medication?' when I go to the police, so all I can hope for is the vigilante assassins doing me a favor out of the kindness of their hearts. Vigilante assassins, where are you?)

Anyway it is true that my life is empty, I have no one to care about, except Peter, and for lots of reasons, that is a very unsatisfying relationship. It is true that I look forward to seeing Curtis for a few fractions of a second, and feeling the intense and unbearable terror, and the intense feelings, even the unpleasant feelings, even the awkwardness, the shame, the rejection, the unnaturalness, the feeling of being hurried and anxious and not wanting to take up too much of his time while working - the feelings are unbearable, but that is the most feeling that I have about anything at all in my life. I would rather have a calm, pleasant, stable, routine relationship with him, like we used to, when we knew we could easily see each other at work almost every day, and be together, and spend a few minutes talking and relaxing without rushing. I don't *want* to have a tense, terrifying, awkward, rushed relationship with him. But that is all that I have right now. That is the only way to see him, to see his body, to see his eyes, to hear his voice, for a few seconds at a time before I leave.

Sooner or later, I will get the 'no' signal from his body while I am near him. He will say something or do something that says 'no' in the real world - not just in email. So far, MOST of his 'no' statements have been in emails or texts, but in the real world, he is much more tolerant and unwilling to say 'no.' The only time when he really said 'no' to me in the real world was the time when I was trying to ask him if I could give him a phone call because I really needed to talk to him, to settle our relationship - I was trying to do that for months, but he didn't want to talk about it - I needed to know where I stood with him, once and for all, so that I could let go and move on, so that the murderers would no longer be able to convince me to violate his boundaries - if the boundaries are clear, strong, and explicit, if we make a set of rules about what I can and can't do, then I won't violate those rules even though the murderers are telling me to. He has to say 'no' again and again, repeatedly and consistently. The only time he said 'no' was when I was asking for that phone call, and he said that he spent all of his time either at work, or with his girlfriend, and there wasn't a time when he could call me, and there were tears in his eyes while he told me this. He was very reluctant, but he did say 'yes' to the phone call, except that was the day that he got arrested and went to jail. It was obviously a puppet setup. The one time when he and I agreed to have a phone call to each other, that was the day when he went to jail. The murderers made it happen and they knew it was going to happen.

Unwanted status updates: There was an incident while I was still on Facebook. I found out what it was all about, shortly afterwards. For several days, the murderers were trying to force me to make a joke, in my facebook status updates, about people giving unwanted details in their status updates, like about how they're going to the bathroom, and that kind of thing, things people 'don't want to know.' But I didn't make the joke, I didn't say what they wanted me to say.

So they forced my friend Natalie to talk about it instead. And she and Lori were funny and witty and they always make me laugh, so I put in my two cents and made my own comment about how, soon, I myself will be one of those people making too many status updates about too many personal details that no one wants to know, like going to the bathroom.

The 'rationale' in my puppet brain was: it was because I was buying a new mobile phone. I thought I would be making lots of status updates from my mobile phone, and I would be addicted to it, and also, I would make puppet updates, saying things the murderers forced me to say, things with a double meaning or secret joke. (Right now they're using Twitter for that instead.)

Then it turned out, shortly afterwards, that they installed new videocameras at McDonald's. 'They' decided that that's what the puppet joke had been about. New videocameras mean that my privacy might be violated anytime during my hours at work. You know exactly when I'm going to the bathroom. You can see in the cameras that I'm leaving the kitchen area and walking out in the lobby and then coming back a few minutes later. Even though you can't see directly in the bathrooms, the people watching the videos can see that I'm going to the bathroom at that moment, and how many times I go to the bathroom, and how long I stay there.

I myself wasn't thinking about it much, until the voices pointed it out to me. It bothered me for a couple days.

Without the cameras, other people might not notice that I walked out into the lobby for a couple minutes and then came back. They might not really be paying attention to where I am at any particular minute. Some people would know where I was, and I sometimes, but not always, tell people that I'm going to the ladies' room. However, for some of the voices, for some of the 'personas,' it is an issue, merely knowing, or talking about, going to the bathroom. I can understand this, and to an extent, I feel that way too, but I'm not as preoccupied with thinking about this as they are. It's like an enneagram type One, a religious person, who blocks out anything that could be sexually arousing or associated with sex or genitals in any way at all. It is also like somebody who is being traumatized and attacked. I get 'personas' in my head who claim that they themselves are the victims of an attack. I don't know who they are. It reminds me of people in Guantanamo or Abu Ghraib.

There was a problem with Curtis when this was going on. He himself did that exact thing, status updates about going to the bathroom, after I commented with Natalie and Lori. I had the conflict about 'he doesn't know I exist, he doesn't read anything I write, he doesn't care what I do' in conflict with 'it seems like he read what I wrote, he thought it was funny, or else he took it as truth, and so he did the same thing,' in conflict with 'he could be a puppet, forced to say those things, and he might not have ever read my little comments on Natalie's page at all.' All of those interpretations were in conflict. It is that kind of incident that caused a lot of conflict and uncertainty - I *want* him to know that I exist - he did it several times, not just about the 'bathroom updates,' but about other things I had written. I want him to know that I exist - but I want him *in the real world.* I don't merely want to be an online-only facebook friend! It's painful when he's acting as though I exist, on facebook, but at the same time, I got an email from him saying that he didn't want to hang out with me in the real world. I can't tell which emails are real and which ones are fake. I can't tell which of his status updates came from reading my stuff, and which status updates were fake puppet ideas that they forced him to say.

(Whatever else was fake, at least it turned out that his page told the truth about where he was working, and I visited him, and saw his body, and my body knows where he is. It is an animal's body looking for closure when its animal friend disappeared. I can't convince it with words, I can only show it, and I did. The real world is what I want.)

I'm going in to work earlier than usual today. I asked for more hours at McD to make up for losing Weis. I don't like working earlier. There is nothing to live for. (As I said before, don't take that the wrong way.) There is nothing to care about. Yes, I choose life, and I am committed to life, until I die a very old woman, and yes, I survive, but I don't care about anything. There's been nothing to live for, all day, except a failed stalking mission, and now, I have even less time at home, and I have to go to work early, just to pay the bills...

If I hadn't started getting forced to have crushes on young boys, I would still be writing about how government is the root of all evil, and how it is their taxes, and their fiat money, and their banking system, and their laws, that force me to work so many hours, to waste and destroy the precious time of my life. But instead, I am writing about love and stalking. (Technically, the crush itself is real, the feelings are real, but in the real world, I would have let it go and I would not have tried to make a real relationship out of it.)

I'll post this now, and remember more stuff I wanted to say after it's posted.