(that title doesn't really sound quite right. LOL)
Dad and I are getting along, so far. It was actually fun, both of us carrying the dishwasher down the steps on a dolly, in the rain, on slippery wooden steps. If I could have somehow videotaped this, I would have. (I may have confused 'fun' with 'terrifying.' It's not something I do every day.)
Then, I should have also videotaped myself standing on top of a shaky metal file cabinet a foot and a half wide, which was on top of a plastic foot locker, while I piled boxes and musical keyboards and other stuff on top of, and behind, other stacks of boxes, while Dad handed things up to me.
Or then again, there was me standing on top of the dishwasher, doing that same thing as before, piling things onto stacks, except the dishwasher started to roll away on its wheels while I was straddled with one foot on a nearly-empty box sticking out of one of the stacks, which was slowly crushing under my foot, with my other foot on the dishwasher. So I had to get Dad to catch the dishwasher and push it back, or I would have had to jump off and probably knocked a bunch of boxes over.
And of course it's pouring rain today! We get to go up and down the steps in the rain. I don't mind that too much, it's refreshing, not too hot outside.
So again, kind of stressful but also fun, and we're not arguing. We seem to understand each other. As long as I don't talk about any controversial subjects it won't be a problem.
Dad is thinking ahead about where we might put the last of my stuff if we absolutely can't fit it into the storage unit. I can keep some of it in my car, and he said that maybe Aunt Jean would let me temporarily put a few things there if I had to. And he also suggested that I might go to the homeless shelter if I absolutely had to, if I could not get in to the apartment. (I am having a problem which I won't get into right now, but I expect it to be resolved. But I might not get the apartment or it might be delayed.) A couple years ago I had asked Aunt Jean if I could stay at their place but they were not really comfortable with that, especially because both of them have serious health problems now. So I'm not going there. I'm not that worried about it yet.
Anyway, it really is fun to do work with somebody else instead of alone.
That's it for now.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
My storage unit looks like a badly played game of Tetris.
I used to play Tetris on Nintendo back in the 1990s. There were times when you would have a hole, a missing space, a few rows down, and you're trying really hard to get to it so that you can fix it, but every time you reach it, something goes wrong, and you add another piece that doesn't really fit and it only makes the situation worse, or it has a piece that juts outwards with another hole underneath it, which causes another bad row, and it piles up higher and higher because you can't make any rows disappear.
So my storage unit is like that. I have my bookshelves set up, but for some reason, didn't put anything ON them, which would have actually USED the shelves. Instead, I just piled things in front of them. After doing that for a bit, I decided to try putting a few things on the highest shelves, but not the lower ones, so it's in danger of falling forwards. The lower shelves are empty, but blocked behind a bunch of stuff. It's too exhausting to think about pulling everything out just to get to the lower bookshelves, so I am leaving it that way.
Then, I have the recliner. It has boxes piled up in its lap. But since the recliner is soft and squishy and not flat, the boxes are tilted, leaning at a slight angle. To fix this, I added a few boxes in between other stacks of boxes, up at a high place with nothing underneath them, boxes that are supported by nothing except the leaning stacks of boxes around them, just hanging in midair that way.
A lot of my boxes are almost empty, with only one or two lightweight objects in them. This is because I kept a few contaminated items that I wanted to keep separate from other items. So there are quite a few boxes that are full of air, which ought to have been compressed into less space if I could. But I am leaving them that way too.
I went there to move things around and make room for my dishwasher. That worked out fine, so I will be able to get the dishwasher in there today.
My dad drove up here anyway, because it turns out that my uncle Eugene in Bellefonte was having heart problems and thought he might die. I was shocked to hear this, because nobody mentioned it to me until after everyone else had already known about it for several days. However, I got to see him today and I will try to go visit them maybe later today after Dad and I get the dishwasher put away.
I used St. John's Wort yesterday to give myself the endurance I need to do unpleasant work. I was having days where I would get maybe one box of stuff packed, and then I couldn't bring myself to do any more work than that. The sjw worked well - I got a lot more boxes packed yesterday than any other days.
Anyway I thought it was funny how it reminded me of Tetris - playing Nintendo all the time, those were the days. (Nothing in my life reminds me of Super Mario Brothers right now, but I'll let you know if that happens. Maybe I'm a princess 'moving to another castle?')
So my storage unit is like that. I have my bookshelves set up, but for some reason, didn't put anything ON them, which would have actually USED the shelves. Instead, I just piled things in front of them. After doing that for a bit, I decided to try putting a few things on the highest shelves, but not the lower ones, so it's in danger of falling forwards. The lower shelves are empty, but blocked behind a bunch of stuff. It's too exhausting to think about pulling everything out just to get to the lower bookshelves, so I am leaving it that way.
Then, I have the recliner. It has boxes piled up in its lap. But since the recliner is soft and squishy and not flat, the boxes are tilted, leaning at a slight angle. To fix this, I added a few boxes in between other stacks of boxes, up at a high place with nothing underneath them, boxes that are supported by nothing except the leaning stacks of boxes around them, just hanging in midair that way.
A lot of my boxes are almost empty, with only one or two lightweight objects in them. This is because I kept a few contaminated items that I wanted to keep separate from other items. So there are quite a few boxes that are full of air, which ought to have been compressed into less space if I could. But I am leaving them that way too.
I went there to move things around and make room for my dishwasher. That worked out fine, so I will be able to get the dishwasher in there today.
My dad drove up here anyway, because it turns out that my uncle Eugene in Bellefonte was having heart problems and thought he might die. I was shocked to hear this, because nobody mentioned it to me until after everyone else had already known about it for several days. However, I got to see him today and I will try to go visit them maybe later today after Dad and I get the dishwasher put away.
I used St. John's Wort yesterday to give myself the endurance I need to do unpleasant work. I was having days where I would get maybe one box of stuff packed, and then I couldn't bring myself to do any more work than that. The sjw worked well - I got a lot more boxes packed yesterday than any other days.
Anyway I thought it was funny how it reminded me of Tetris - playing Nintendo all the time, those were the days. (Nothing in my life reminds me of Super Mario Brothers right now, but I'll let you know if that happens. Maybe I'm a princess 'moving to another castle?')
Monday, July 27, 2009
OMG!!! THE UNIVERSE IS ENDING!!! RIGHT NOW!!! ALL LIFE AS WE KNOW IT WILL BE DESTROYED!!!
My mom is freaking out about me trying to move out of my apartment. She said again that she is going to send Dad up here to 'help' me get out of the apartment. I am moving out very slowly because of recurring illnesses, chemical sensitivities, and fatigue, which makes it very hard to pack all my stuff into boxes and go up and down the steps a hundred times.
There are a few reasons why I don't want Dad to come up here and 'help.' Dad and Mom both believe that all of my herbal residue contamination is imaginary (and also the moldy air, and my chronic fatigue). So if Dad is packing things for me, he will throw contaminated objects randomly with other things that are not contaminated - unless I fight and argue, constantly, which I can already imagine. This means that sentimental, irreplaceable objects will be ruined, destroyed, and made permanently untouchable and unusable. I'm expecting also that there will be fighting over random things, lectures about what a failure I am and how I'm 34 years old and yet they're still helping me financially, and how I need to get my life together, blah blah blah.
Mom and Dad are co-signed on my lease with me. And I would never have wanted that. But over the past few years, it's been frequent job losses, unusual disasters, electronic harassment, and chronic illnesses, one after another, and my life has not been stable enough to earn enough income to pay my own rent for long periods of time. (My parents believe that all of these things are either imaginary, or else they're my fault.) I've been able to do it for brief periods, but not permanently.
It has been years since I've fought with them this much. I feel like I'm living with them again. I am actually yelling and raising my voice in an argument, which, again, I almost never need to do. I have been shouting at Mom on the phone telling her *NOT* to send Dad up here.
I tried explaining to her the reasons why the universe ISN'T going to collapse and destroy all life as we know it. But she believes that since their name is co-signed on the lease, it IS going to destroy the universe and all life as we know it.
I am not happy about this either, but I know for sure that the universe isn't ending, and that it will be okay. I can survive this even if it doesn't go perfectly. Mom is freaking out because I don't have all my belongings out of here yet. The worst thing that can happen with that is that 1. I will have to pile stuff on the porch, and 2. the carpet won't get cleaned in time. If the carpet wasn't ready, the new people might be briefly delayed getting in (oh no! I can see the dead bodies piling up now! I can hear the screaming! blood and guts everywhere!).
I can't move things into the new apartment, because it hasn't been settled yet. I wasn't getting enough hours at my job, and the new landlady was hesitant to let me move in, because it seems like I'm not making enough money. In reality, in the long term, I am either going to become a nomad and live in my car, an RV, or something similar, or else I am going to be living with housemates, or a group, or a spouse.
All these years, I have not married, because I was sure there would be a divorce, and if we didn't divorce, there would be physical and psychological abuse. So I refused to marry. I don't know why I expect physical and psychological abuse as being extremely likely to happen in my marriage, but it might be because my first 'real' boyfriend (somebody more than just a brief kiss or whatever) was... a little bit messed up... very unpredictable, and probably a victim of some of the same things that are causing so many problems in MY life right now.
I actually see two possible scenarios for my marriage. The first scenario: 1. I find the guy sexually attractive. The marriage relationship is psychologically abusive. Life is unstable. It ends with a divorce. This is a bad environment to try to raise children in. 2. A 'practical' marriage. I find the guy sexually and psychologically boring, or possibly even disgusting, repulsive, or loathsome. Not at all attractive. However, he is down-to-earth enough to earn money in a reliable way, and nonviolent enough that he doesn't abuse me or the children. For sexual, psychological, and mental excitement, I look outside the marriage. This is an infidelity or non-monogamous scenario. Again, I would rather not feel that I had to do that.
It's normal for people to have friends outside the marriage, and it's normal that spouses do not meet each other's every social need, and they have to go to other people to share their interests and their goals and their activities. A typical marriage might have a wife who rolls her eyes whenever the husband wants to go watch football or NASCAR racing on TV, and the husband rolls his eyes whenever the wife wants to go shopping at yard sales, or whatever wives do that annoys their husbands. (I don't relate to other women very well. I never have.) And it seems to be common for women to fantasize about other men, celebrities, movie stars, etc. who are 1. not their husband, 2. not interested in them, 3. not available, 4. not reliable or stable enough to marry, 5. drug users who are physically and psychologically dangerous, having fights and mood swings and unpredictable things (that describes my high school boyfriend).
So my imagined likely scenarios for the marriage are very negative, and I avoided it all this time.
I don't know where this fits in, but I also have to mention: I expect that, of course, my husband will not respect my knowledge, my intelligence, my competence, the things that I believe and the things that I want, and the goals I want to achieve. That would probably be true in both scenarios. In all of my life, nobody ever respected me or cared what I wanted or what I believed. (That's one of those fake sentences which is not true: those are somebody else's words, not mine. In reality, I can name a few people who HAVE respected me and cared what I wanted. But would you believe me if I told you that somebody is forcing me to write fake sentences, and that I need a physical shield that can block out electronic mind control attacks, and that somebody needs to do research to find out how the attacks are being done so that we will know what the shield needs to be made of, and also the sources of the attacks needs to be found so that the people doing them can be stopped? I would need a husband who can at least *tolerate* this, even though I would probably have to work on those projects with other people, not necessarily my husband.)
Fighting with Mom and Dad again is bringing all of this out. (So far, I have only talked on the phone to Mom. Dad and I don't talk much. He and I only get in fights if we live together in the same house.) I don't want to marry somebody only to find that they are just as disbelieving as Mom and Dad, calling me a hypochondriac, crazy, lazy, and all the other things that they think I am.
In my opinion, there isn't much reason to marry someone unless you are planning to have children. If you're not having children, then you can just have monogamous boyfriend-girlfriend relationships, which is what I have been doing all these years. People do it for 'tax reasons,' but that's just... I don't know. A stupid reason. There have to be better reasons to marry someone than that.
I forgot to mention something earlier. I read someplace the names of the generations. Mine is called Generation X, which most of us have heard of, but they also started calling it 'The Boomerang Generation.' I wrote that a few months ago in my blog somewhere, I vaguely remember. Boomerangs, because we move out, and then come back home because we can't afford to live on our own - the rent is too high, the job market is too unstable, businesses go bankrupt one after another after another to infinity, the property taxes are too high, the housing and land prices are too high, and even after going to college and getting several degrees, people still can't get a stable job without getting laid off after a year or two, because there are NO BUSINESSES that can profit in a collapsing economy.
I know I'm not the only person having these problems. I make myself feel better by remembering that people were writing about chronic health problems a long time ago, that some of the famous poets and authors were 'sickly,' although back then it was because of air pollution, tuberculosis, and things like that. I also know that the unstable economy is everywhere, and that lots of other people can't keep a job for long, and it's been that way for years now. And after reading my books for the past few years, I have some understanding of how and why the economy and the money system are being destroyed.
So I know that I am not alone; and I also know that this is nowhere near as bad of a disaster as a lot of other things I have experienced. My life is not in immediate danger. I am going to fight and argue with my family for the next few days, and maybe the next few weeks, but it is going to settle down, and I am going to continue doing the things that I have been trying to do.
I got a good fortune cookie a couple weeks ago. It said, 'Notice the dream that keeps coming back. It is your destiny.' There are lots of things that I have been thinking about for years now, and some things that I have been thinking about since childhood, things that I have wanted to do, things that I thought were important - the dreams that keep coming back. I am still going to try to do those things.
There are a few reasons why I don't want Dad to come up here and 'help.' Dad and Mom both believe that all of my herbal residue contamination is imaginary (and also the moldy air, and my chronic fatigue). So if Dad is packing things for me, he will throw contaminated objects randomly with other things that are not contaminated - unless I fight and argue, constantly, which I can already imagine. This means that sentimental, irreplaceable objects will be ruined, destroyed, and made permanently untouchable and unusable. I'm expecting also that there will be fighting over random things, lectures about what a failure I am and how I'm 34 years old and yet they're still helping me financially, and how I need to get my life together, blah blah blah.
Mom and Dad are co-signed on my lease with me. And I would never have wanted that. But over the past few years, it's been frequent job losses, unusual disasters, electronic harassment, and chronic illnesses, one after another, and my life has not been stable enough to earn enough income to pay my own rent for long periods of time. (My parents believe that all of these things are either imaginary, or else they're my fault.) I've been able to do it for brief periods, but not permanently.
It has been years since I've fought with them this much. I feel like I'm living with them again. I am actually yelling and raising my voice in an argument, which, again, I almost never need to do. I have been shouting at Mom on the phone telling her *NOT* to send Dad up here.
I tried explaining to her the reasons why the universe ISN'T going to collapse and destroy all life as we know it. But she believes that since their name is co-signed on the lease, it IS going to destroy the universe and all life as we know it.
I am not happy about this either, but I know for sure that the universe isn't ending, and that it will be okay. I can survive this even if it doesn't go perfectly. Mom is freaking out because I don't have all my belongings out of here yet. The worst thing that can happen with that is that 1. I will have to pile stuff on the porch, and 2. the carpet won't get cleaned in time. If the carpet wasn't ready, the new people might be briefly delayed getting in (oh no! I can see the dead bodies piling up now! I can hear the screaming! blood and guts everywhere!).
I can't move things into the new apartment, because it hasn't been settled yet. I wasn't getting enough hours at my job, and the new landlady was hesitant to let me move in, because it seems like I'm not making enough money. In reality, in the long term, I am either going to become a nomad and live in my car, an RV, or something similar, or else I am going to be living with housemates, or a group, or a spouse.
All these years, I have not married, because I was sure there would be a divorce, and if we didn't divorce, there would be physical and psychological abuse. So I refused to marry. I don't know why I expect physical and psychological abuse as being extremely likely to happen in my marriage, but it might be because my first 'real' boyfriend (somebody more than just a brief kiss or whatever) was... a little bit messed up... very unpredictable, and probably a victim of some of the same things that are causing so many problems in MY life right now.
I actually see two possible scenarios for my marriage. The first scenario: 1. I find the guy sexually attractive. The marriage relationship is psychologically abusive. Life is unstable. It ends with a divorce. This is a bad environment to try to raise children in. 2. A 'practical' marriage. I find the guy sexually and psychologically boring, or possibly even disgusting, repulsive, or loathsome. Not at all attractive. However, he is down-to-earth enough to earn money in a reliable way, and nonviolent enough that he doesn't abuse me or the children. For sexual, psychological, and mental excitement, I look outside the marriage. This is an infidelity or non-monogamous scenario. Again, I would rather not feel that I had to do that.
It's normal for people to have friends outside the marriage, and it's normal that spouses do not meet each other's every social need, and they have to go to other people to share their interests and their goals and their activities. A typical marriage might have a wife who rolls her eyes whenever the husband wants to go watch football or NASCAR racing on TV, and the husband rolls his eyes whenever the wife wants to go shopping at yard sales, or whatever wives do that annoys their husbands. (I don't relate to other women very well. I never have.) And it seems to be common for women to fantasize about other men, celebrities, movie stars, etc. who are 1. not their husband, 2. not interested in them, 3. not available, 4. not reliable or stable enough to marry, 5. drug users who are physically and psychologically dangerous, having fights and mood swings and unpredictable things (that describes my high school boyfriend).
So my imagined likely scenarios for the marriage are very negative, and I avoided it all this time.
I don't know where this fits in, but I also have to mention: I expect that, of course, my husband will not respect my knowledge, my intelligence, my competence, the things that I believe and the things that I want, and the goals I want to achieve. That would probably be true in both scenarios. In all of my life, nobody ever respected me or cared what I wanted or what I believed. (That's one of those fake sentences which is not true: those are somebody else's words, not mine. In reality, I can name a few people who HAVE respected me and cared what I wanted. But would you believe me if I told you that somebody is forcing me to write fake sentences, and that I need a physical shield that can block out electronic mind control attacks, and that somebody needs to do research to find out how the attacks are being done so that we will know what the shield needs to be made of, and also the sources of the attacks needs to be found so that the people doing them can be stopped? I would need a husband who can at least *tolerate* this, even though I would probably have to work on those projects with other people, not necessarily my husband.)
Fighting with Mom and Dad again is bringing all of this out. (So far, I have only talked on the phone to Mom. Dad and I don't talk much. He and I only get in fights if we live together in the same house.) I don't want to marry somebody only to find that they are just as disbelieving as Mom and Dad, calling me a hypochondriac, crazy, lazy, and all the other things that they think I am.
In my opinion, there isn't much reason to marry someone unless you are planning to have children. If you're not having children, then you can just have monogamous boyfriend-girlfriend relationships, which is what I have been doing all these years. People do it for 'tax reasons,' but that's just... I don't know. A stupid reason. There have to be better reasons to marry someone than that.
I forgot to mention something earlier. I read someplace the names of the generations. Mine is called Generation X, which most of us have heard of, but they also started calling it 'The Boomerang Generation.' I wrote that a few months ago in my blog somewhere, I vaguely remember. Boomerangs, because we move out, and then come back home because we can't afford to live on our own - the rent is too high, the job market is too unstable, businesses go bankrupt one after another after another to infinity, the property taxes are too high, the housing and land prices are too high, and even after going to college and getting several degrees, people still can't get a stable job without getting laid off after a year or two, because there are NO BUSINESSES that can profit in a collapsing economy.
I know I'm not the only person having these problems. I make myself feel better by remembering that people were writing about chronic health problems a long time ago, that some of the famous poets and authors were 'sickly,' although back then it was because of air pollution, tuberculosis, and things like that. I also know that the unstable economy is everywhere, and that lots of other people can't keep a job for long, and it's been that way for years now. And after reading my books for the past few years, I have some understanding of how and why the economy and the money system are being destroyed.
So I know that I am not alone; and I also know that this is nowhere near as bad of a disaster as a lot of other things I have experienced. My life is not in immediate danger. I am going to fight and argue with my family for the next few days, and maybe the next few weeks, but it is going to settle down, and I am going to continue doing the things that I have been trying to do.
I got a good fortune cookie a couple weeks ago. It said, 'Notice the dream that keeps coming back. It is your destiny.' There are lots of things that I have been thinking about for years now, and some things that I have been thinking about since childhood, things that I have wanted to do, things that I thought were important - the dreams that keep coming back. I am still going to try to do those things.
Friday, July 24, 2009
sick day
spent the day lying around resting, feeling like a truck ran over me. don't know what the problem is. my muscles feel weak and sore and exhausted. i have no energy. my head hurts. barely able to move or hold my head up or walk around.
wasted day. didn't get anything done at all.
wasted day. didn't get anything done at all.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Tweet: I'm feeling much better now
i got a little bit of rest. i even have a sense of humor again.
a long time ago there was a show called 'night court.' there was a tinfoil hat guy (if i'm remembering the right show) who used to say that he was in the mental hospital, but he'd say 'i'm feeling muuuuch better now,' in a scary, creepy way. it might have been 'newhart' and it might have been 'cheers.' i remember back in the days when i used to watch television, i watched those shows with my parents. that was a pleasant memory.
i drove across town, and parked at tudek park. i rested in the car. i didn't fall asleep, except for a few seconds when i was hypnotized, but the rest of the time, i just laid there awake but resting. i've done this before, just go sit in the car at the park, and it made me feel better. it worked this time too.
at first, i could still hear some voices. there are unavoidable, quiet voices that seem to happen everywhere. but the leg torture wasn't happening. my legs felt just fine when i went across town and tried to sleep there.
after lying there about 15 minutes, somebody starting 'slipping' or 'buzzing' the place where my leg was pressed against the steering wheel. if you press part of your body against a hard surface, they will buzz the spot until it slips and gradually moves into a slightly different position. if you don't know you're being attacked, it seems as though it's just ordinary friction. but they will also make the muscles twitch around that location, and they also give it a recognizable tickling sensation just before the slip happens. i believe this particular attack is an ultrasonic attack, but i'm not sure. anything 'physical,' such as objects moving or making clicking noises, is probably sonic. (it's easier to imagine sound waves being able to vibrate things and move them.)
i adjusted the steering wheel so it was no longer against my leg. so that stopped happening.
they banged on my window a bunch of times, making a clicking noise as though an acorn or something fell from a tree, but there's nothing there. after doing that a few times, they quit for some reason, instead of doing it continuously.
after a while, most of the attacks seemed to stop. i still couldn't sleep, but i was able to rest. and i was getting a little bit of sunlight, which cheered me up. it's good to get a little bit of sun on your skin and in your eyes. the air was fresher, too - not moldy like in my house.
there were people at the park, people with kids, talking and laughing and playing around. it also cheered me up to be around people.
so... i'm watching a harry potter movie for the 621st time, for comfort, and i will start working again on the house. i play the movies whenever i have to do unpleasant housework.
i figured i would let everyone know that i was somewhat cheerful again.
a long time ago there was a show called 'night court.' there was a tinfoil hat guy (if i'm remembering the right show) who used to say that he was in the mental hospital, but he'd say 'i'm feeling muuuuch better now,' in a scary, creepy way. it might have been 'newhart' and it might have been 'cheers.' i remember back in the days when i used to watch television, i watched those shows with my parents. that was a pleasant memory.
i drove across town, and parked at tudek park. i rested in the car. i didn't fall asleep, except for a few seconds when i was hypnotized, but the rest of the time, i just laid there awake but resting. i've done this before, just go sit in the car at the park, and it made me feel better. it worked this time too.
at first, i could still hear some voices. there are unavoidable, quiet voices that seem to happen everywhere. but the leg torture wasn't happening. my legs felt just fine when i went across town and tried to sleep there.
after lying there about 15 minutes, somebody starting 'slipping' or 'buzzing' the place where my leg was pressed against the steering wheel. if you press part of your body against a hard surface, they will buzz the spot until it slips and gradually moves into a slightly different position. if you don't know you're being attacked, it seems as though it's just ordinary friction. but they will also make the muscles twitch around that location, and they also give it a recognizable tickling sensation just before the slip happens. i believe this particular attack is an ultrasonic attack, but i'm not sure. anything 'physical,' such as objects moving or making clicking noises, is probably sonic. (it's easier to imagine sound waves being able to vibrate things and move them.)
i adjusted the steering wheel so it was no longer against my leg. so that stopped happening.
they banged on my window a bunch of times, making a clicking noise as though an acorn or something fell from a tree, but there's nothing there. after doing that a few times, they quit for some reason, instead of doing it continuously.
after a while, most of the attacks seemed to stop. i still couldn't sleep, but i was able to rest. and i was getting a little bit of sunlight, which cheered me up. it's good to get a little bit of sun on your skin and in your eyes. the air was fresher, too - not moldy like in my house.
there were people at the park, people with kids, talking and laughing and playing around. it also cheered me up to be around people.
so... i'm watching a harry potter movie for the 621st time, for comfort, and i will start working again on the house. i play the movies whenever i have to do unpleasant housework.
i figured i would let everyone know that i was somewhat cheerful again.
rage incidents
i keep writing more blogs because i am getting hit with various drugs while going through stuff; and i tried to take a nap, which sjw makes me do, but i napped for only a few minutes (when one of the murderers forced me asleep) and then woke up very quickly afterwards (when a murderer forced me awake). then they were continually torturing my legs, making me wiggle my feet, and buzzing the air bubbles in my stomach.
since i have been hit with drugs several times, these things are triggering rage much more than usual. it hasn't yet been enough rage to make me punch the wall with my hand, or scream out loud, or throw something across the room, all of which i have done before.
i need to sleep, because if i slept really well, i would wake up happy and refreshed, and i would probably be able to pack up the rest of my belongings pretty quickly, and actually be cheerful about it too.
also, all day they've been bugging me because 'glow' is a weak translation of 'albright,' and they wanted me to find a better translation. 'lex' is fine with me if you think of 'lex luthor,' which is what i was getting at. i had seen something on the web mentioning a person by that name (m. luther) who was in iowa, and it was an older person, from the early part of the 1900s. i forget where i saw that reference or what it had to do with.
albright could be 'all right,' which is 'okay,' 'fine,' 'good,' etc. or it could be something else that means 'all,' like 'omni' or something, with a synonym for 'bright.' i do agree that glow is a sloppy, hasty translation.
they were pestering me about the weak translation, and since i was enraged, i was fighting back against them, because i am trying to block him out of my mind, and they keep reminding me of him, every day, over and over again. so every time they were saying the words 'lex glow' to me, i was responding to them by threatening to kill them, even though i don't know who they are or where they are and have no way of finding out where the voices are coming from. they were saying those words, while simultaneously triggering a fake, induced emotion of shame and humiliation.
anytime i do anything which is the slightest bit imperfect, dorky, or whatever, they remind me about it again and again all day long - this includes things like minor typographical errors sometimes - and they trigger the fake shame. so they were doing that to me all morning.
then they were saying 'you crossed the second line' because i put his real name up. supposedly i have to perform a series of tests in order to 'win' the 'game.' they also are hinting that i have to say something to one of his family members, and i am not looking forward to that. obviously, it will be another forced incident just like all the other ones.
since i have been hit with drugs several times, these things are triggering rage much more than usual. it hasn't yet been enough rage to make me punch the wall with my hand, or scream out loud, or throw something across the room, all of which i have done before.
i need to sleep, because if i slept really well, i would wake up happy and refreshed, and i would probably be able to pack up the rest of my belongings pretty quickly, and actually be cheerful about it too.
also, all day they've been bugging me because 'glow' is a weak translation of 'albright,' and they wanted me to find a better translation. 'lex' is fine with me if you think of 'lex luthor,' which is what i was getting at. i had seen something on the web mentioning a person by that name (m. luther) who was in iowa, and it was an older person, from the early part of the 1900s. i forget where i saw that reference or what it had to do with.
albright could be 'all right,' which is 'okay,' 'fine,' 'good,' etc. or it could be something else that means 'all,' like 'omni' or something, with a synonym for 'bright.' i do agree that glow is a sloppy, hasty translation.
they were pestering me about the weak translation, and since i was enraged, i was fighting back against them, because i am trying to block him out of my mind, and they keep reminding me of him, every day, over and over again. so every time they were saying the words 'lex glow' to me, i was responding to them by threatening to kill them, even though i don't know who they are or where they are and have no way of finding out where the voices are coming from. they were saying those words, while simultaneously triggering a fake, induced emotion of shame and humiliation.
anytime i do anything which is the slightest bit imperfect, dorky, or whatever, they remind me about it again and again all day long - this includes things like minor typographical errors sometimes - and they trigger the fake shame. so they were doing that to me all morning.
then they were saying 'you crossed the second line' because i put his real name up. supposedly i have to perform a series of tests in order to 'win' the 'game.' they also are hinting that i have to say something to one of his family members, and i am not looking forward to that. obviously, it will be another forced incident just like all the other ones.
Nonliving objects have feelings
i sometimes hate being 'thin-skinned'...
i am throwing away some clothes which are contaminated. i know from experience that when i would try to wear them, the drugs would go through my skin, and i would be uncomfortable for hours, and it wouldn't go away, and i could wash them dozens of times - i tried - and it won't wash out. i'm handling stuff that has a more benign residue, something like st. john's wort possibly, not ephedra. most of the really bad ephedra stuff is already long gone.
however, even though i know that i have to get rid of this stuff, it is heartbreaking to throw it away.
this has happened ever since i was a young child. i project feelings onto physical objects as though they are alive. i threw away a pair of old moldy shoes that had been soaked with water. they were sitting in a plastic bag alongside an empty bottle of starbucks frappucino.
i took out the bottle of frappucino and put it into my kitchen trash. then, i took the shoes down separately to the dumpster.
right away, i started thinking, the shoes had sat there with the starbucks bottle for so long, that they were friends and they would miss each other now that they were separated. it actually hurt me to put the starbucks bottle into a separate trash can than i was putting the moldy old shoes into. i guess i could bring the kitchen trash down and put it in the dumpster right now if i really wanted to.
but when this happens, when objects have feelings, i have to tell myself, these are not people, these are not animals, these are not my friends, family, children, they are not alive. material objects are nothing.
when i was a little kid, i never threw away an old toothbrush whenever the dentist gave me a new one. i kept all the old toothbrushes under the bathroom sink in the cabinet. i kept them there for years and didn't do anything with them. one time, my mom found this hoard and threw most of it away. i had several incidents like that, of hoarding things because objects had feelings and they didn't want to get thrown in the trash.
i was reading about scientology. scientology has a purification protocol. it's different from mine. in theirs, you take large amounts of vitamins. in mine, i avoid using vitamins because the vitamins themselves can be dangerous and cause more problems. anyway, i haven't read the detailed instructions on how to do scientology's 'purification rundown,' but i wonder if they have any knowledge about contaminated clothing with drug residues that go through the skin. they did mention something about using that purification rundown to help people who were working on cleaning up meth labs. meth labs are similar to my ephedra residues, in fact, ephedra is often used in meth labs, and it would be one of the residues that they are cleaning out of the area. they would have exactly the same experience with an extremely toxic, heart-attack-and-stroke inducing drug going directly through the skin and contaminating the clothing. so i wonder whether they (scientology) know about that phenomenon or not. i haven't read about this anywhere else, not in quite the level of detail that i have observed it.
anyway i wish that i had support, from somebody somewhere on earth, who could say to me, 'yes, you're right - there really are drug and chemical residues on those clothes you're throwing away, and yes, you're right, they won't wash out in the laundry.'
i hate throwing things away. i wish i didn't have to do it.
but i am reminding myself that the goal is to prepare for having children. the children cannot touch these residues. and i cannot touch them either, or it will be hard to get pregnant and not miscarry. not only that, it triggers incidents of 'unpredictable behavior' which put me at risk of people calling the police on me.
i was already 'anti-gift' before this contamination incident. now i am even MORE anti-gift. i HATE receiving gifts. it's more junk and clutter that will have to be moved from one apartment to the next. if you give me a gift, then you must be responsible for lifting it and carrying it up and down the stairs and renting out extra storage space to put it in, and cleaning it off when it gets contaminated.
it's possible to find a gift that i would enjoy receiving, but even i myself can't describe what type of gift that would be, i mean a nonliving physical object type of gift.
it's easier to throw things away whenever they are plain and not unique, when they are practical and functional instead of decorative, whenever they don't have any faces or images of animals or people or living things on them. i get the creeps from amish dolls that don't have any faces, but at the same time, i feel that way too - that it's even more painful when a toy or doll gets destroyed or thrown away, if it has a cute face or a sad face and you can project feelings onto it. if something is blank and faceless it's easier to get rid of it or accept that it gets destroyed.
so, for instance, it's easier for me to throw away my plain white socks, which tend to get the most contaminated because of being in my shoes which touch the carpet - anything which gets near or on the carpet gets contaminated.
i am buying really cheap clothes at goodwill, and avoiding anything that's unique. it has to be generic and something that i don't like all that much, yet i have to be able to tolerate wearing it for a while.
i was really excited because i found a pair of pants that were made out of tencel. and i think they were $0.29 (for some reason, they changed it to 29 instead of 25). tencel is a fabric that i really like - it's like cotton, except it's manmade - and a few years ago, i had a couple of shirts that were... inappropriate to be worn in public, i should say, which were tencel and very soft and very thin. the fabric is drastically different from polyester - i loathe polyester, i can't stand it, i can't stand how it feels. but tencel feels just like cotton, but even softer and more rippling. it breathes, and it doesn't get staticky. i cannot wear staticky fabrics, especially with long hair.
anyway, i found those tencel pants, and right away i said no, i refuse to buy these. i could not bear to throw away something so nice as a 29 cent pair of tencel pants when that was such a wonderful find. every time i get ready to buy something, i ask myself if i can imagine throwing it away.
after i go to the new place, the carpet won't be contaminated. but my car seat will still be, and also the car floor. but i expect that my clothing will be reusable - i am praying that i will work, that i won't have the contamination problem anymore, when i no longer have pants leg cuffs dragging on the carpet. it will be greatly reduced, but not completely gone, with the little bit still in the car.
well... back to cleaning up.
i am throwing away some clothes which are contaminated. i know from experience that when i would try to wear them, the drugs would go through my skin, and i would be uncomfortable for hours, and it wouldn't go away, and i could wash them dozens of times - i tried - and it won't wash out. i'm handling stuff that has a more benign residue, something like st. john's wort possibly, not ephedra. most of the really bad ephedra stuff is already long gone.
however, even though i know that i have to get rid of this stuff, it is heartbreaking to throw it away.
this has happened ever since i was a young child. i project feelings onto physical objects as though they are alive. i threw away a pair of old moldy shoes that had been soaked with water. they were sitting in a plastic bag alongside an empty bottle of starbucks frappucino.
i took out the bottle of frappucino and put it into my kitchen trash. then, i took the shoes down separately to the dumpster.
right away, i started thinking, the shoes had sat there with the starbucks bottle for so long, that they were friends and they would miss each other now that they were separated. it actually hurt me to put the starbucks bottle into a separate trash can than i was putting the moldy old shoes into. i guess i could bring the kitchen trash down and put it in the dumpster right now if i really wanted to.
but when this happens, when objects have feelings, i have to tell myself, these are not people, these are not animals, these are not my friends, family, children, they are not alive. material objects are nothing.
when i was a little kid, i never threw away an old toothbrush whenever the dentist gave me a new one. i kept all the old toothbrushes under the bathroom sink in the cabinet. i kept them there for years and didn't do anything with them. one time, my mom found this hoard and threw most of it away. i had several incidents like that, of hoarding things because objects had feelings and they didn't want to get thrown in the trash.
i was reading about scientology. scientology has a purification protocol. it's different from mine. in theirs, you take large amounts of vitamins. in mine, i avoid using vitamins because the vitamins themselves can be dangerous and cause more problems. anyway, i haven't read the detailed instructions on how to do scientology's 'purification rundown,' but i wonder if they have any knowledge about contaminated clothing with drug residues that go through the skin. they did mention something about using that purification rundown to help people who were working on cleaning up meth labs. meth labs are similar to my ephedra residues, in fact, ephedra is often used in meth labs, and it would be one of the residues that they are cleaning out of the area. they would have exactly the same experience with an extremely toxic, heart-attack-and-stroke inducing drug going directly through the skin and contaminating the clothing. so i wonder whether they (scientology) know about that phenomenon or not. i haven't read about this anywhere else, not in quite the level of detail that i have observed it.
anyway i wish that i had support, from somebody somewhere on earth, who could say to me, 'yes, you're right - there really are drug and chemical residues on those clothes you're throwing away, and yes, you're right, they won't wash out in the laundry.'
i hate throwing things away. i wish i didn't have to do it.
but i am reminding myself that the goal is to prepare for having children. the children cannot touch these residues. and i cannot touch them either, or it will be hard to get pregnant and not miscarry. not only that, it triggers incidents of 'unpredictable behavior' which put me at risk of people calling the police on me.
i was already 'anti-gift' before this contamination incident. now i am even MORE anti-gift. i HATE receiving gifts. it's more junk and clutter that will have to be moved from one apartment to the next. if you give me a gift, then you must be responsible for lifting it and carrying it up and down the stairs and renting out extra storage space to put it in, and cleaning it off when it gets contaminated.
it's possible to find a gift that i would enjoy receiving, but even i myself can't describe what type of gift that would be, i mean a nonliving physical object type of gift.
it's easier to throw things away whenever they are plain and not unique, when they are practical and functional instead of decorative, whenever they don't have any faces or images of animals or people or living things on them. i get the creeps from amish dolls that don't have any faces, but at the same time, i feel that way too - that it's even more painful when a toy or doll gets destroyed or thrown away, if it has a cute face or a sad face and you can project feelings onto it. if something is blank and faceless it's easier to get rid of it or accept that it gets destroyed.
so, for instance, it's easier for me to throw away my plain white socks, which tend to get the most contaminated because of being in my shoes which touch the carpet - anything which gets near or on the carpet gets contaminated.
i am buying really cheap clothes at goodwill, and avoiding anything that's unique. it has to be generic and something that i don't like all that much, yet i have to be able to tolerate wearing it for a while.
i was really excited because i found a pair of pants that were made out of tencel. and i think they were $0.29 (for some reason, they changed it to 29 instead of 25). tencel is a fabric that i really like - it's like cotton, except it's manmade - and a few years ago, i had a couple of shirts that were... inappropriate to be worn in public, i should say, which were tencel and very soft and very thin. the fabric is drastically different from polyester - i loathe polyester, i can't stand it, i can't stand how it feels. but tencel feels just like cotton, but even softer and more rippling. it breathes, and it doesn't get staticky. i cannot wear staticky fabrics, especially with long hair.
anyway, i found those tencel pants, and right away i said no, i refuse to buy these. i could not bear to throw away something so nice as a 29 cent pair of tencel pants when that was such a wonderful find. every time i get ready to buy something, i ask myself if i can imagine throwing it away.
after i go to the new place, the carpet won't be contaminated. but my car seat will still be, and also the car floor. but i expect that my clothing will be reusable - i am praying that i will work, that i won't have the contamination problem anymore, when i no longer have pants leg cuffs dragging on the carpet. it will be greatly reduced, but not completely gone, with the little bit still in the car.
well... back to cleaning up.
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