Sunday, July 30, 2006

A Near Perfect Day Ruined

July 30th---before bedtime.  Well, it was just too good to last.  I went to the post office to mail my rent (one mile away), and the NSA had put so much dope fumes in my truck that by the time I got back, my knees were to weak to climb the one step up to my back door.  I did dishes when I got home, and as I have had to do often in the weeks prior, I leaned against the kitchen cabinet to hold me up as my knees were just too weakened from the drugs.  I think they are causing arthritis, and I think the damage is permanent.  Earlier, when I went for a bike ride (for the first time in a long time), it was very obvious that I have lost a lot of strength---most of it, I suspect, in the knees.  I just am biking like a senior citizen.  I have no strength to propel my bike along.  My stamina is good; it' the joints that are being inflammed by these drugs.  Not only the knees, but the pain started up again in my left thigh, once I got all doped up.  These dumbasses are destroying me.  I don't know what they intend to get out of it.  If they only knew, what really works for me.  All they have done is created unnecessary pain and suffering to try to obtain an objective that I will attain one way or another, but there is no need for the trauma and bodily destruction that I have been put through.  But these bastards are hung up on their power trip so I know they won't listen.

What did motivate me to be mellow and focussed all day?  That is obvious too.  It was talking to someone online  who was genuine, warm, and very real.  She related to me as a person, not a thing to be manipulated and coerced.  She seems kind of hesitant, but she understands me and knows how to motivate me more than all the rest of these psychs combined.  Talking with her is like talking with Augusta.  It leaves me feeling energized, open and vulnerable, instead of closed off and restricted like usual.  But my brief vacation won't last.  Tomorrow, I go back to working 10 hour days and I am certain I will be so doped up when I leave I won't even be able to go to the gym and do a little cardio....

Sunday meditation


A truly glorious day, such as I have not enjoyed in a very long time. The weather is perfect—sunny and cool, with the recent rains washing out the air. I am not drugged, and it feels so good to have a clear mind and body. I am not task oriented today, except for making sure that my plants get their needed ration of sunshine. But the dishes can stay dirty in the sink and my clothes piled in the laundry basket. This is a true Sabbath---a day of rest. There is no greater prayer to offer God than praise and there is no greater praise to offer than the inner contentment of a happy heart. I subscribe to the theory that a major factor in America’s ills is our loss of leisure—not the leisure that gets you up at 6 am to go boating or biking or yard sale browsing, but just the old fashioned sitting and being, aware of, in tune with, and grateful for everything that is going on around you. And truly I am.

I read another half chapter of the Gulag Archipelago this morning, and I wasn’t going to, because it seemed too grim for Sunday morning reading. But I am not simultaneously reading another book right now, as is my custom, so I decided to offer up the unrelenting negativity and suffering as intercessory prayer for the situation in the Middle East. I have always had mixed feelings for Solzhenitsyn. While I admire his courage in his dedication to the truth, I have always sensed the strong, conservative, reactionary streak in him. I had a Marxist professor once, who called him, "monarchist." I don’t know if I would go that far, but I wouldn’t like to live in the political community that he seems to envision as ideal. He writes honestly of his own arrogance upon his arrest. He was an officer in the Army, and he thought that status entitled him to special privileges even from his fellow inmates. So he expected and demanded that his fellow incarcerated peers carry his luggage while they trekked from one prison to another. He finally draws the conclusion that such a mindset is really what is behind the horrors of Communist Russia—the authoritarian/submissive model of social relationship that predated 1917 by centuries, and he blames it on the nature of the "Asiatic people."

That is an interesting racial/cultural observation, and given the rising power of another Asiatic people (the Chinese), it would be good to read a really insightful, objective book on the Asiatic personality. It would also be interesting to see if itcould be traced to the devastation wrought by Genghis Khan and the Mongols. By thoroughly decimating the population, and idolizing and rewarding the warriors of the culture, did they set up the cultural mindset for centuries to be submissive to power? Or did the submissive nature of the population make the decimation possible? I can’t say for sure, but I can say that I have been praying for the "conversion of Russia" for years, but my idea of conversion is different than most of the fundamentalist (especially Fatima-driven Catholics) Christians. I don’t think of Russia as particularly any more "godless," than other countries. I do think that the political/social environment has been historically repressive to the human spirit (but then so have a lot of theocracies in the Middle East—only they do it in the name of God instead of socialism), and I think that now the Russian population is devastated by centuries of suffering and repression. Whenever I watch a documentary about Russia, I am appalled at how sickly the people look. I can see severe alcoholism on nearly every single Russian face. I know people don’t understand my terminology, but I can see the multitude of evil spirits that plague the populace. There are evil spirits in every country, but honestly the nation seems put under a curse, and perhaps that is the natural result of a nation that complicitly sided with the most insidious of evil—the destruction and dehumanization of your own kind. Fear led people to comply and now fear and shame of the memory binds the Russian personality into tighter repression. As Solzhenitsyn says, Russia never came to terms with, much less justice for the evil done under the Stalin years, and he compares that with the trials done in Germany after WWII. Even though there is still anti-Semitism in Germany, I can see that most Germans are appalled at what happened in their country under Hitler. There was a collective and healthy kind of repentance associated with the post war trials, and that is why the German nation and personality has rebounded so well. When I look at German faces, I see much healthier and happier people (and they like to drink too!). But the Russian people are burdened by an unexpiated judgment of their own collective guilt and shame, and I fear that unless a collective conversion towards repentance occurs, they will not shake it off, but allow themselves to be driven into another destructive war that could eventually cause a near total collapse of the planet. There is an image I think of when I think of Russia. It is that of a Russian mother holding the hand of her bald headed little girl who is undergoing chemotherapy near Chernobyl. The mother is massively built and strong, with shoulders wider than most NFL tackles. The girl looks desperately sick, and is looking up to her mother for strength. The mother, for all physical strength seems beat down and demoralized, but there still is a fighting spirit in her. Russia is afflicted by a cancer—the cancer that occurs when you destroy the healthy and most vital parts of your own body—and that is what Stalin did for decades—he destroyed the best and brightest of the Russian populace. But they are an incredibly strong people with a fighting spirit. Can they fight off the cancer? I don’t know. That is why I pray for the conversion of Russia. They need all the help they can get. I know somewhere too, Solzhenitsyn is praying for them too.

Thursday, July 27, 2006

busy day

A very busy day for me as mentally I started to recuperate from the trauma of the last few days, but physically I remain very messed up.  Both of my legs are completely numb right now, the numbness of autism, and I don't know if it is from yoga (when I was doped up on lithium, they used to get number after yoga, or if somebody sprayed my car with dope again).  I have been in so much pain that I think I am starting to disassociate from my body.  I realized how severe my muscle spasms have been doing yoga tonight.  My muscles will not move, and my back is severely out of whack.  I couldn't even do a Warrior 2 pose.  No wonder I have been having bad migraines--the lower back being out will cause a migraine every time.  It was a first tonight, as I had to take a Fiornal at the beginning of class.  Usually I can use the meditation and breathing to control the pain, but tonight the pain had the upper hand and I just couldn't handle the nausea.  It didn't help that I tried taking a GABA supplement to which I had a total negative reaction.  There is no doubt in my mind that the drugs they have been force feeding me have GABA in them.  I didn't mind so much that the GABA completely shut me down (I took it when I was really wired---trying to get everything done that I had to do, after I discovered a second bad tire in two days).  Even though the feeling was totally hateful and stressful, it only lasted about a half hour and then I recuperated rapidly.  It was the same sensation as the drugs, except the drug feeling of being repressed and shut down lasts all day long, and I go out of my mind wanting to escape the horrible feeling.  But the GABA supplement had the same long lasting side effects  that the drugs had---it messes up my vision really badly.  Right now my prescription from six months ago needs to be replaced by something much stronger--I am losing my vision to those drugs that mess up my eyesight.  And then there is the headaches---I recognized the headache immediately--I've never suffered from headaches like that before November of last year.  Typically, my headaches all come up my spinal column and neck, but these are focussed behind my eyes and at the third eye point, and it hurts to try to open my eyes and see.  But it was an experminent I tried at my own free will so I am not too upset.  I am more upset with my bad back and numb legs.  I realizeif I cannot break free of this doping, I soon will be disabled with pain. 

I can only take it one day at a time.  I will soon know if they intend to keep doping me.

Wednesday, July 26, 2006



Another lost day as I recuperate from another overdose of psychotropic drugs. I have been in tremendous physical pain all day as the muscle spasms and tightness in my legs and back and neck continue. I couldn’t even get out of bed until noon. My legs and arms are sensitive even to the most delicate touch. It feels like the nerves are all inflamed to the point of pain, and I don’t know when my body is going to return to normal. I am so angry at being doped up against my will that I feel I could act violently. I am still high and walking like a 70-year old woman. A psych asked me today if I would be willing to take psychiatric medications. I wanted to start laughing hysterically. Psychotropic medications have taken a full year of my life. They have cost me my youth, my joy, my energy, my vitality, my love, and the fullness of life. They have wrecked my body. They have stolen precious time from me that could have been spent hiking or reading or working out or making love, creating nothing but a hellspace of the most atrocious mental suffering and physical pain, and they ask me if I would be willing to take drugs????? Only western medicine could be so stupid. I can literally see when someone is on anti-depressants—I recognize immediately the flatness of affect and the lack of joy and ambitious striving to do and be better, which is at the essence of what it is to be human. I feel their peevishness with, and oversensitivity to reality which cripples them to really grapple with, and thus transform life creatively. In short, they are legalized dope addicts---quite content to stew in the feel good chemicals that castrates their holy human spirit. I am not opposed to anti-depressants in true psychological crisis, but western medicine has turned our nation into a bunch of walking, chemicalized zombies. The war on drugs makes me laugh. If we truly want to stop the waste caused by chemical dependency, lets start with the big pharmaceutical companies and reorient MD’s toward holistic healing, not quick-fix doping. But geez, what would happen to all the profits and income?

As for me, I don’t know how anyone who knows me could think that psychotropic drugs benefit me in any way---which is why I am thinking of returning to my mom’s house. She may be stupid enough to be fascinated with chemicals too, but I think even she can see with her own eyes what happens to me when I am on those horribly crippling and numbing drugs. They literally steal my life and turn me into a zombie too. I know when I am on them. On the outside I am mellow and productive, but on the inside I am dead and I hate life, and I hate it with a passion. Thus I cannot generate any joy or creativity. But the psychs who are responsible for the administration of the drugs are too blinded by their own agenda or too dehumanized themselves to see how destructive the drugs really are. They just want a complacent follower who will do what she is told. They just don’t understand. I am a spiritual person. That means I am free person. They are not free themselves, so they cannot trust a free person. From their perspective, that probably is smart. I would be the kind of person who writes blog entries about the immorality of waterboarding(the torture technique, not the sport—but that is a matter of perspective, from where they stand). I am not a follower. I am a free child of God, and I will strive to act with morality and integrity in all my actions (knowing of course I will fail on occasion). That makes me an ill fit for your organization, NSA AND SLI, so let me go.

Until you do, you can dope me as much as you want. You have already destroyed my body and have succeeded in taking my greatest earthly joy and hope from me. I will fight you until I die, and I will keep talking and writing and I know that somewhere, someone is going to listen and that will be the 100th monkey that brings your sick, distorted world down.

I was going to write of a dream that I had the other night---probably should….ok…

A couple of days ago---dreamed of spelunking with a man who was a true friend (not a boyfriend but not a casual acquaintance either) and two kids. We were going on an adventure and though it was usually done with guides who knew the routes, we decided to do it solo (it was very easy to get lost). It really wasn’t a cave but a route of underground tunnels accessed through a locked door in a house. The house had some historical significance and was a park or something. Anyway my friend knew how to get past the lock, but I told him the kids had to eat first to have strength to make it, so we sat down and ate. While we were eating, a Southern sheriff (typical fat stupid ignoramus) came and rechecked the lock so my friend could not pick it. He gave us his best spiel as to how dangerous it was. So we went back to our workday lives when I saw a psych tech pull up to my workplace (Teri P), and I knew that she was going totell me how to get past the lock, so I called my boyfriend at his workplace and told him to get over here ASAP. I knew that route 118 was the safest and route 23 was a major deadend.

Int. Simply put, it is time to go back to therapy if I can find a good person (like Teri P), not someone like Paul DeBlassie or the stupid govt psychs who want to dope me up—they want to lock up the door. They are afraid of the unconscious—their worlds are just too small and narrow.

I know that my sealed hidden psychosis is coming through. I will attempt to make bridges with a psych one more time. If that doesn’t work, its plan B.

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

continuing pain

Another bad night  as I was doped up.  My eyesight is starting to dim so badly that this morning when I woke up and opened my eyes, it was like I was using a dimmer switch.  My eyes are just so sluggish to light response.  I had to take my hand to make sure the light switch was really on.  It was.  My legs are numb right now as I speak--having gone back to perpetual numbness, and my back is tight.  I know I cannot continue like this for much longer and will have to make a choice to save my life and body--the wilderness is calling.  I have to go soon, before autumn hits.  I just want to feel healthy and strong in my body again.  That won't happy today.  Hopefully, it will happen once again.

Sunday, July 23, 2006

post birthday musings

July 23, 2006

I guess my rejoicing over my "recovery" was premature, as I got whopped over the head with dope (speed, I think), Friday night, which left me physically limping, emotionally anxious and raging, fully, autistic once more. It’s easy for me to tell when I am autistic. I can tell by driving, when I am so freaked out with stimuli that I just go on autopilot and pray to God to get me home safely. I can tell when I can go to the store, and I start to get overwhelmed and come down with a migraine because I can’t stand all the individual cans and boxes and items just invading my consciousness, and taking up all my awareness space. I can tell when I go to the Post Office, and feel like I am stoned because I can see, and am mesmerized by each individual one of the thousands of mail boxes, and have to force myself to look for my number---and the numbers don’t look right, because my brain is on shutdown from stimuli overload. Then of course, there was the limping as my knees stiffened up in pain again, and my body was so sensitive that I felt that I was covered in carpet burn. What a setup for my birthday the next day! I spent the next day trying to recover and fill my prescription for the Diamox. I recovered somewhat, enough to work out for an hour today at the gym---for the first time in two weeks. I still am not healthy though. The workout took everything I had. I am nowhere near how I used to be---when a workout left me energized, refreshed, and mellow. Now I feel tired and overextended---and I didn’t even work out that hard. I wish I had some Diamox so I could gauge how much of my problem is caused by all this excess fluid I am carrying. I am suffering from eyestrain and headaches every day, and have both right now. As a matter of fact, it is time to take some medication….But I have to keep going. I only have a few hours until bedtime and then my workweek begins, and time for writing will be minimal. So I must try to keep my eyes open for 50 minutes and write as much as I can.

I know that it is the NSA that is providing the big stick and materiel for my suffering, but why—in the face of the damage and destruction they have clearly wrought? You can’t use somebody who is dead, and my being crippled is not optimal for their purposes either. So is it just ignorance? I remember seeing the psych (or maybe just a bureaucratic stand-in) at Alltel, and how upset I was at his lack of intelligence. I was thinking to myself "they have given this guy power to destroy me, and he is not even that smart." I suppose he had to have enough smarts to get through medical school or graduate school or whatever, but he clearly has suffered from the crippling of the intellect caused by the dominating power mentality. He is not accustomed to dealing with free people with whom he has to dialogue and creatively "woo" out of their neurosis or undesirable state. He thinks he can create change by force or coercion, and I suppose in most circumstances of his job, it works, so his ability to reason, to dialogue (and how can you understand the other person if you do not dialogue?), to creatively respond to and transform reality, has dulled. That is why he appears so stupid, just like the handsome, soulless agent who I first saw in Dr. Phillip’s office, then later on as a Rio Rancho "police officer." He could torture someone to death if ordered to do so, and he has absolutely no qualms about his leadership role in destroying me. Then there was the preppy, sold out black guy who lived on Ambrose Alday to help keep an eye on me. To his credit, he still had a soul, so that he at least, was suffering conflict over his role in my drugged torture, but my guess is, not for long, not if he is going to be a valuable member working for the NSA.

I read where a CIA contractual worker (IT specialist—free thinkers, the lot of them—thank God they exist somewhere in this post Reagan Bushworld) was fired because of her expression regarding waterboard torture—that it is wrong, and it is degrading to our American spirit and vocation to use it. She writes the majority of CIA employees are like her. Wow! I hope so, but that is hard to believe from my limited experience and perspective.

As I was reading Solzhenitsyn recount the torture that Soviet Russia inflicted upon their own citizens in the gulag, I was struck by how similar they are to what we are doing now at Abu Gharaib—the only thing that I don’t think we have done is crush a man’s testicles with a boot. It is not the work of a few bad apples; it is the result of the whole American shift to the dominating power mentality that thinks it can tranform and change through brute force, but instead, as will become ever more undeniable, all that we have done, is unleash a furious misery upon the world that will rebound back on us. Don’t those agency guys read the memoirs of people who survive torture, or are they too busy reading the technical and how-to manuals on the latest methods to degrade and destroy. Well, they will learn what people like Solzhenitsyn already know---that the people who break under torture are the "roodie-poos", the followers, the know-nothings. As for thee people who are the truly strong and dangerous and charismatic, they will either die in spirited defense, or survive to lead ever larger numbers, outraged at their suffering at the hands of immoral oppressors, to inflamed retaliatory violence.

There is another brute force factor in my life right now—the SLI. While it is the NSA that has the spyware on my computer, somehow, Dave Denny knows as soon as I long onto the network and he is still doing his number, stalking me online under various screennames—first Silentpalerider, and then Rambomodern1. It doesn’t matter what screen name he chooses—like the agents for the NSA, he is a man who has sold out his intelligence to the dominating power mentality, and his unrelenting arrogance and total inability to dialogue comes through within two minutes of chat. What did I ever see in that community? I shake my head in appalled amazement that I would have ever had anything to do with them (that soul searching is for another entry). The only reason that I bring it up is because Dave Denny and the SLI are the only ones "allowed" to chat with me online. As soon as I begin a chat with someone I really enjoy and appreciate, they "disappear." People can think I am paranoid, but I know that there is an Opus Dei/NSA connection (look at how Ratzinger wrote that letter to the bishops right before the election focussing on how to fight against any pro-choice candidates—this right after the boyking paid a visit to the Vatican seeking help for his re-election. Ratzinger is another study himself, but that is a whole other entry for which I will wait until the time is right). But it doesn’t matter if it is religious or political, the dominating power mentality has lost its respect for the human person, and thus any ability to creatively transform it. I don’t know how long I can keep fighting, but I am one of those who would rather die in spirited defense, and I know, because I already have come very close, that they are quite capable of killing me, through their utter stupidity and arrogance (they would never call their hatred of free choice of will, "malice.")

Well, on to more mundane things like doing my laundry. I need to try to do one more entry. I had a dream last night and know what I need to do (I just don’t know how soon I will get to it). God protect me from all the lifehaters out there—try to preserve my mind from the destruction of psychotropic drugs and heal my body from their ravages.

Wednesday, July 19, 2006


Yesterday, as I did yoga, I felt like a human being again for the first time in a long time, though I still was stiff, and unrecognizable to myself whenever I looked in the mirror.  But my sense of self and soul remains shaky, and I realize the complete devastation done to my personality by psychotropic drugs (no wonder they have become a preferred torture method by security interregotors all over the world--especially those who would deny the barbarity of torture itself.  But I have been tortured, and now I have to try to recover.  Whenever I am on drugs my sense of self, boundaries, and self esteem become severely compromised, and I am unable to withstand all the negativity, or even just the overwhelming chaos of other people's emotions that I sense from others in social situations around me.  When I am myself, I take the negativity and I can catch  it and just pull it out of me, oftentimes transforming it into something positive.  But when I am compromised by drugs, I just want to withdraw, because I am not strong enough to handle all the emotions I feel from other people.  That is where I am at today.  I wish I could just spend the day recharging and recuperating from the trauma of the last two weeks, but I can't.  I can see how my job is good for me, because it gives me an opportunity to experience social relations, but in a diluted sense---over the phone, so I am not so overwhelmed by sensual overload and psychic barrage of other people's emotions that right now I am not strong enough to take--to be honest, I never really recovered from  the first bout of drugs I went through.  I could tell whenever I was taking retention calls the difference between my first three months on the job, when dealing with other people's negativity was a breeze, and afterwards, when it became a dreaded struggle.  But I am not taking retention calls now.  I just got to go and plug in.  So I can handle it.  One last note--speaking of negativity, I got rid of dave denny from my buddy list this morning.  I recognized him before the virus crashed my computer.  Of course I know that I am monitored and even the format/reload can not erase the partition and spyware that these dumbasses have placed on my computer, but I won't have them anywhere that I can see them.  Poor pathetic bastard.  He still clings to some fantasy that I am going to have anything to do with him or his totaltarian, abusive, homophobic religion.  No way.  But that is for another day.  I have to get through this one first and it won't be easy....

Tuesday, July 18, 2006


I have to write fast now---periods of lucidity are becoming briefer as the NSA continues to dope me up with psychotropic drugs.  I am thinking of going to Mom's, because I realize how desperate my situation has become.  Forget about my bills and my furniture, and just leave.  I am reminded of how Solzynhesin was upset over 100 lost pencils upon his arrest, not realizing the enormity of the violation and tragedy he would endure over the next 11 years.  It is the same with me--when one is undergoing torture as a political prisoner, forget about the details and worry about survival. 

I dreamed that I have Parkinson's disease.  There can be no doubt that I am suffering from Parkinsonian symptomolgy as my entire body grows numb and rigid and weak and unable to move, and it would be tempting to admit that is the extent of my problem.  But I remember how many times my inner voice told me, when I was a child, that  "the problem is that you are autistic", and I refused to listen, interpreting my inner voice to be saying to me in an an exaggerated Southern drawl that the source of my social and relational problems was that I was "artistic."  I know now that my inner voice will tell me the direct hard truth and not speak in symbols and allusions.  I also realize that the NSA's poison has resulted in extremely deleterious and permanent damage to my brain, and it would not suprise me a bit if they killed off the cells that result in Parkinson's.  As little as I know about the brain, something tells me that a big part of my problem lies in the dopamine levels of my brain---and how I successfully adjusted to autism is related to my hyperactivity and rapidly fluctuating energy (NOT mood!) levels, but these bastards are completely undermining my brain's natural and hard won ability to relate to reality"normally", leaving me autistic and withdrawn.  Yesterday, my body was so sensitive to feeling my own clothes on my skin that it was painful and felt like burning, and I wanted to tear them off but I was too weak in my arms to do anything about it, except sit there and withdraw into my own little world.

The other big problem are the painful muscle spasms that are racking my body (caused by the low dopamine, or by the psychotropic drugs?).  I am suffering from severe back and leg pain, and I now understand what is causing the leg cramping and nerve damage---it is the scoliosis of the spine that is directly related to the psychotropic drugs.  My spine arches away in an attempt to avoid the poison, and now my lower back is more curved that it has ever been, and it is pinching or pressuring the muscles in my thigh to spasm, and they do spasm, terribly painfully.  They are both simultaneously numb and so painful that I can't describe if it is more like fire or ice.  The only thing that helps is Vicodin.  I don't know if I will ever recover from that either.  I am not going to talk about my eyesight.  I am just going to wait for the doctor to tell me how much permanent damage has been done.  Another day of suffering awaits me, but I have my spirit now, assholes.  You have my body and you can torture it, but you will never have my spirit or my free will.  Fuck you and all your empty promises and lies.

Monday, July 17, 2006

Fresh perspective

It's time to start writing again.  My life hasn't appreciably changed.  The Powers That Be are still drugging me.  The difference is that I am going to start naming names.  I am tired of playing nice.  It is the NSA that has doped me up and wrecked my body and brain.  To what extent the Spiritual Life Institute or Opus Dei is involved, I can't say, but there is involvement.  Of course I know how crazy this sounds and that is what the NSA is counting on to keep me quiet.  Well no longer.  I have been reading Alexander Solzyhnitsyn, and I am horrified at the extent of torture done to the citizenry of the Soviet Union by their state security organs, and how it was made possible by the complicity and silence of the citizens.  Well, I will be silent no longer.  You might call me crazy, but you will not call me silent.  I will not be a silent victim any longer.  I will go kicking and screaming all the way.  For I have made the ultimate sacrifice that Solzynhitsyn says has to be done by the victim of torture.  I have given up on my protection and security of the body.  That is what I have been clinging to and desperately defending these past few months when the NSA began drugging me in earnest in November.  I couldn't believe that they they wanted to destroy my body and brain, and that was my mistake.  They do, so that I will be a complicit victim in their proposed agenda for me.  Well now, my body is so trashed, I know that I will never fully recover from the torture of the past year, but this time I am not clinging to my body.  As I write, I am suffering from the headaches and dimming eyesight caused by the rush of fluid to my brain occasioned (solely and directly) by the massive amounts of psychotropic drugs I have been force fed this previous week.  I am suffering from increased inflammation and pain of the joints, suffering from  back pain and an inability to walk normally.  I am dealing with a weight gain caused by the progesterone I am being force fed to induce a psuedo pregnancy.  But I no longer will focus on those things.  A victim of torture has to acknowledge that their body is worthless, an object of contempt and violation for their torturers, and so it is with me. 

Nope, according to Solyznhetsin, I have to focus on conscience and spirit, because that is what the masochists cannot take away, and in my case, itis precisely what they want me to deny.  Over months of being drugged, I have lost contact with my spirit, and I do not know how I can get back in touch with it, as the drugging continues.  But even the drugs cannot take away my faith, and sometimes when that is the only way one can touch spirit, it is enough.  So here is my promise--no matter how bad I feel, and sometimes I feel so bad I wish that I were dead rather than alive, I have to fight, to speak, to let my fellow citizens know what a monster is arising in our country while they exercise their democratic spirit by voting for "The American Idol."  I should have started this another day when I don't have to go to work, but I have to write when I can.  To be continued....