Friday, November 30, 2007

A one day respite is over

A one day respite is over--yesterday I felt like a human being for the first time in nearly two weeks.  I was able to play (and feel) music.  I was able to read with meaning, and to drive comfortably and relaxed, instead of like the drug-induced, autistic nervous wreck who can only fixate on the spot in front of her.  I was able to really practice yoga, instead of going through the motions reduced to a stretching class.  By that I mean that I was able to feel my body, connect with my body, my mind and my spirit, and really push myself and my muscles to a (admittedly poor) performance peak.  My whole body was so weak from two weeks of numbness and locked, spasming muscles that I found it difficult to hold any position for any length of time.  Worst of all, was the clear evidence of ongoing, possible permanent damage.  My lower back, hips, and especially my quad muscles are rigidly locked.  Whenever I try to hug my legs, it feels like my thighs have steel rods for bones and muscles.  I don't know if and when this will ever go away, or if it is just more permanent damage that my body endures at the hands of my abusers.  I do know this--their drugs are what is responsible for causing my catatonia--not the chemical intoxication from lack of absorption, which is what "Martin" is assuming.   The more saturated with drugs I become, the more paralyzed I become.  I know this because the first realization that I was drugged again this morning was when I woke up, and felt that my legs were numb before I even got out of bed.  Now I am aware of the painful muscle spasms in my back again (my body spasms in an effort to evade what it instinctively knows is the most toxic of poison), and the muscle weakness in my arms that make it difficult to write or type or lift a cup of coffee to my lips.  Soon I will be completely alienated from reality, so I have to write while I still can.

I don't think Martin is interested in diagnosis and healing.  I tried to get a referral to a doctor who specialized in neurosensory disorders, but I haven't heard anything. Stupid ass Mengele Martin has made his diagnosis and I will suffer from his concentration camp treatment.  God only knows how much I can endure.

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