Thursday, January 31, 2008

More psychotropic drugging just creating a physical free fall

Psychotropic drugging just creating a physical free fall of migraine misery, fluish symptoms, muscular spasming, and just sheer exhaustion.  I am sitting to write this, forcing myself to keep my eyes open, forcing myself to not climb back into bed and just collapse with this severe energy exhaustion that the lithium and speed creates.  I spent the past two days fighting sick migraines, as my body vainly fought off the poison.  I had finally went to the museum to see the British Museum's travelling Egyptology display, but I was too sick to enjoy it--I was fighting severe nausea and headaches the entire time.  I did note a scribe's palette, which looked just as utilitarian as if it were still being used, and a couple  of wooden head rests.  The head rests remind me of a alternative medicine device I have been thinking of purchasing that acts to control the flow of cerebralspinal fluid in the brain, because as I looked at their headrests, I realized that the was the function of those pieces of wood that fit right across the lower back of the head.  So now, I will probably buy one.  I just hope the implant back there doesn't cause an aneurysm.  But I am too exhausted to do it today.  I am too exhausted to do anything.  I know that I need to clean my house, but I am too sick.  It is time to go back to bed.

Thursday, January 24, 2008

I spent an agonizing day

I spent an agonizing day with abdominal cramping, pain, and tenderness, while my body tried to adjust to the lack of T4--levothyroxine.  Finally, thanks in part to a OTC thyroid glandular and digestive enzymes, I can eat again, but my stomach is still bloated, distended, and tender to the touch.  I have decided that it is no use complaining about my health, wasting my money for trips to the doctor, or for that matter to even pay insurance premiums.  My body is under assault from the speed and lithium, and all I can do is cover up and wait for the brutal punishment to end, hoping that one day, through exercise, diet, and appropriate medical care (the T4), I can reclaim at least 70% of the healthy, robust vitality that I knew two and a half years ago.   My healthy days all seem like a distant memory as I suffer from constant muscle spasms and inflammation, an ongoing fluish feeling and drain on my energy, as well as a complete lack of concentration or ability to exercise an intellectual or spiritual life.  If I could just read or contemplate, so that I can enjoy this forced misery, it would be tolerable, but the best I can do is watch boring TV, or lay in bed with a heating pad while my muscles continue to involuntarily contract and spasm in a manner that I actually think is neurological, caused by all the pressure and inflammation in my brain.  Nothing for it but to keep going, one foot in front of the other.

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Maybe I owe an apology to Opus Dei.

Maybe I owe an apology to Opus Dei.  I had assumed that my thyroid medication had been tainted from motive of forcing spiritual mortification on me.  But this morning, I woke up miserable not only from the bloated stomach (I took a digestive enzyme first thing this morning), but also miserable with lithium in my system.  So changing my thyroid mecication is just another attempt to force psychotropic drugs onto my system.  It won't work.   I am not manic depressive or schizophrenic, and all these drugs do is mess me up, make me sick physically and confused and dazed mentally, and finally they make me  unable to even function.  Already, I got the first symptoms of lithium poisoning on me.  I feel sick and fluish, dragging myself up and out of bed, barely able to walk, or as is the case now, to type, with these weakened arms (now that I think about it, I probably was under the influence last night in yoga because I was too weak to hold the positions).  I remember last night I was at the library reading the same pages of my book over and over again, trying to understand what the words were saying.  I thought the problem was the speed, because I cannot read when I have speed in my system.  It doesn't matter what kind of psychotropic drug I am force fed.  They all are effectively destroying my body and my brain and darkening my soul, forcing it into protective hiding, even from me.  For the first time, I am forced to concede that I am not going to be able to hold a job when I am this incapacitated by drugs.  For one thing, I cannot get up in the mornings, because I cannot sleep at night.  I wake up sluggish and exhausted at around 10 am every morning.  Fuurthermore, my brain is not clear enough to survive any kind of training or sustained concentration, and my body has too much pain and not enough stamina to work an 8 hour shift, much less a 10 hour shift.  For the first time, I am recognizing that I am going to have to apply for disability.  Totally depressing to even think of it, but my body cannot function like this. 

So do I owe Opus Dei an apology?  Only in a very limited sense.  They may not have been directly responsible for tampering with my thyroid medication, but they still remain the ones responsible for my suffering at the hands of the security intelligence community. 

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Another round of contempt for Opus Dei

Another round of contempt for Opus Dei--every time that I start wondering that maybe, just maybe, those abusive, 21st century Inquisitors have FINALLY gotten the message that I want absolutely nothing to do with them, or their small, sick worldview, and warped, lame version of "religion" (most definitely not "spirituality"), they go and pull a bonehead move that only they would do.  After all, I might believe that a totally spirit-deaf, unimaginative but purely secular government psychiatrist might be the one to force lithium or risperdal on me, but they would not tamper with my thyroid medication.  I spent all of yoga class, regurgitating and swallowing back down the small bowl of chili that I had eaten four hours earlier.  My digestive system has totally stopped--again.  It has done it before when I was denied access to my thyroid meds.  Did you ever stop to wonder how I knew immediately that I was back on thyroid meds--days before I filled the prescription?  Well, I tell you how I knew.  I quite suddenly entered a very peaceful and calm mood, unlike my normal hyperactivity, aggressiveness, and irritability. My digestive system immediately started working again.  I could eat carbohydrates again, without getting sick and bloated. I actually ate a huge serving of mashed potatoes for the first time in YEARS!  I had a normal, healthy appetite again--the only time I have an appetite is when I am on thyroid medication.  So how do I know to eat?  I tell you how.  I am severely hypoglycemic when I am off thyroid meds.  My blood sugar has been incredibly stable for the past two weeks but now I am going to need the constant, high protein diet and snacks again.  Oh, and did I mention that I gained four pounds in two days.  I now weigh 196--though how much of that is undigested food and sluggish digestive enzymes, I don't know.  But that was your plan all along, wasn't it, you sick bastards.  You see, I know exactly how you think--and I rejected your way of thinking a long time ago.  If you really want to know, I never accepted it in the first place. That whole antiquated notion of imposed "mortification" is bullshit.  If you lived in the real world, you would know that.  A person who pursues and lives life to the full has more than enough mortification just from living life naturally.  But life--what a novel concept for you small minded Pharisees-- is something of which you barely know anything even though you pontificate about it all the time, and claim to follow Christ who insisted on living the abundance of life.  You want to impress me?  Don't have your pathetic numanaries, or whatever the hell they are called, go through the motions of contemplative practice at a gym.  Instead, I look for the glint of the Holy Spirit, or even, just a glimpse of the natural human spirit.  But what do I see?  Brainwashed cult members.  What mortification do you push on them?    I don't know and I don't care.  Anyone who would accept spiritual direction and obedience from your school of thought is not following Christ.  At one point, I was stupid and naive enough to approach, but you couldn't understand (because you really are not living life to the full, nor do you pursue it). that for me, the mortification of a male only priesthood was more than a sufficient enough cross for me to carry.  So you lost me, you dumb fucks.  You lost me YEARS ago.  GET OVER IT!  If it makes you happy, though, you totally have destroyed any desire or amition that I may have ever had for priesthood or ministerial service.  But that is not your loss, because I am not part of your communion or church.  So don't worry about it.  Forget it.  Forget me.  I know that you have taken away my thyroid meds because you think it is a great mortification for me to be out of control of my body and gaining weight.  And you are absolutely right in your assumption.  I AM out of control of my body and I cannot do anything to stop the weight gain that has been caused by over two years of your abusive doping of me.  But guess what?  I already am used to being out of control of my body.  And I know, I know, to stay far, far away from anyone who would deny me the legitimate drugs I need for health.  I don't even care about the damned weight.  I can't lose weight as long as you are force feeding speed into my system, anyway.   I just want to be able to digest my food, for God's sake.  I want my hormone levels to be normal.  But you sick pigs--you have done so much damage to my body through your abuse--you have done more damage to me than my father ever did--do you think that abusing me more is going to change my contempt for you?  The only thing more abundant than your arrogance is your stupidity.  Get a life.  Read the gospels.  Have a Christ experience.  Just leave me alone.  I want nothing to do with you.

Saturday, January 19, 2008

Somebody wrote me, reminding me

Somebody wrote me, reminding me "that pushers don't care."  I know they don't care.  I have gone through two plus years of sheer hell, thousands of dollars in medical bills, and trashed and ruined my once healthy and strong body, and for what?  For the goddamn NSA and Christian cultists to continue assaulting my body with speed and lithium.  One of the damned Christians actually came up to me today and said, so saccharine sweetly, "oh, don't you feel better now?"  I had to fight every impulse against going off against her stupidity, presumption and arrogance.  I want to hit, kick, yell, and curse those people who have drugged me against my will (and yes, I know she was one).  NO, YOU GODDAMNED BASTARDS, GET IT.  I DO NOT FEEL BETTER.  I FEEL LIKE FUCKING HELL.  I suffer constant agaony from muscle spasms and arthritic joint and muscle pain.  Now my body is starting to get a constant "burning" nerve sensation across my back and torso.  I wake up hating life, and go to bed, hating life.  I struggle to just barely function, feeling like I am suffering with a "call-in-sick" flu.  Quit believing your own goddamned lies.  How can I function like this?  How am I going to be able to hold a job?  I cannot think.  I cannot feel.  I cannot read or pray.  The only thing I can do is lay in bed or watch TV.  Even watching Tv is no relief--there is no emotional response from me.  I am the walking dead emotionally, and physically, I am the pain beleagured, wish I were dead..

So why do I keep writing this, knowing that the pushers don't care, that they even come up to my face and ask their evilly stupid questions, about "don't I feel better."  I do it, because right now my hero is Alexander Solzeniytzen (too sick to check the spelling).  But just as he spent --and survived--10 years of unbearable physical and mental torment and torture at the hands of an out of control, abusive govt that feared spirit, freedom, and individual liberty, I have to somehow survive.  I no longer think I will write my autobiography--there is too much pain in my life from the last ten years to ever re-live it.  Instead, this is my autobiography, and it is true and honest, and I may be destroyed, but I will not be silenced.

Friday, January 18, 2008

Hating life

Hating life as I try to deal with the chronic pain caused by the speed and lithium that I am being force fed.  My body is shot full of inflammation and arthritis, and it is getting worse.  Even my fingers and my TMJ are now crippled by arthritic pain.  It was painful to even eat this morning as my TMJ is so bad.  I find it difficult to walk or move because my arms and legs are so heavy and dead.  My muscles and joints all feel dead, except for when I can feel the arthritic pain, like I can now in my lower back and hips.  Even yoga is becoming hateful.  Trying to do the poses feels like I have been swimming in cold water for 8 hours.  Everything is so hard, and I am so exhausted, so that all I want to do is lay down on my mat and curl up in a fetal position, which is pretty much all I want to do anyway.  Then there are the constant headaches, brain rushes, and nausea.  My body is just becoming an inert lump, and as usual there is nothing I can do about it.  I have to force myself to get up and do something. Soon.

Monday, January 14, 2008

I can't believe it.

I can't believe it.  Everytime that I start to feel good and healthy, clear and energetic, I get whammed with psychotropic drugs.  Not only can I not walk (again!), I cannot think well enough to maintain a conversation with anyone.  My brain is totally gone.  My despair cannot be imagined nor my rage fathomed.  Mostly I am enraged at myself.  I can't believe that I was stupid enough for one minute to think that these religious fanatics who have stolen my life from me would actually let me healthy and happy on the only medication I really need--the thyroid meds.  No, they won't be happy until they have destroyed me--either by breaking down my once vital and bright mind, or unless I conform to their sick, warped version of Christianity (that will never happen).  The most heartrending feature of this was that I actually was feeling peaceful and centered for the first time in years, but whether that was due to the thyroid meds or to the fact that for a brief few days, I was clear of all psychotropic drugs I cannot tell.  Terribly depressed at the thought of enduring more of these psychotropic drugs and the fear of the permanent damage they do (and have already done...)

Sunday, January 13, 2008

Once again, under assault

Once again, under assault, after a couple of days when, thanks to a psychic (no, the people I looked to for support--the Christians didn't come through, nor the stupid ass, evil psychs), I started being treated with thyroid meds.  But it was just an interlude for major psychotropic drugs that once more have left me unable to walk, body heavy, and unable to think or feel.  I was so jazzed that I could read again, I went and got a bunch of books, but starting last nite, I noticed I could no longer read.  Now, I am so fucked up, I can't even read Web articles or email.  And I am supposed to have a job interview tomorrow!  Unlike the stupid morons who keep force feeding me psychotropic drugs, they can recognize what is going on, not to mention there is no way that I can pass a 3 week training in this condition, or work a 10 hour day.  I am so fucked, and so full of rage...I dare you, Martin, to show your stupid weasel face in Dr. Huaman's office, but you got a fix for that too--you will just zone me totally out with an increased dosage, you contemptible son of a bitch.  I hope you burn in hell, and guess what, it will be easy to pray that you never leave there.  Now, I have to go lay down, wasting in the horrible hell that you have put me in, you stupid motherfuckers.

Thursday, January 10, 2008

A brief respite from the psychotropic drugs is over

A brief respite from the psychotropic drugs is over.  I felt so good yesterday as I was able to read and pray for the first time in what seemed ages.  I read a poem, and I actually felt it.  As I was walking about doing grocery shopping, I found myself noticing, relating to, and praying for the various individuals as they crossed my path.  I have to say that it felt so wonderful to be myself again.  I was able to acknowlege the arising feelings that I have kept repressed ever since I realized them a few days ago.   Aaah, but then the psychological morons who have made my life an utter hell, started doping me up again--on speed I think, just because my legs feel so heavy and dead, like they always feel when I am on speed. I had to take a math test again, and guess what?  My mind is fried, shot, kaput.  I aced the test, but I know that I had to work at determining the answer instead of getting it with the surety, confidence and lightning speed which used to be my norm, back in the lifetime when I was still an undamaged,  free person with full citizenship rights and privileges.   Even worse, I no longer can read with the same facile comprehension that I once took for granted.  I had to take a psych assessment test (which I've had to take now a dozen times in the last five years).  I am comfortable with them because I am honest, and because, thanks to Logic 101 class, I know how to instantaneously deconstruct ambiguously worded sentences.  Well, guess what?  I no longer have that gift.  I struggled mightily to understand what the ambiguous questions were asking.  I am a wreck.  I don't know how I am going to be able to pull life off. 

Saturday, January 5, 2008

It's official

It's official--it is the speed that causes the painful muscle spasms.  My entire left leg and hip are spasming and limping from the prolonged speed I am being force fed.  I don't even believe that the dumbasses think it's therapeutic.  I believe they are trying to force me into a rage (and yep, speed will do that--I have seen many a speed addict under the influence in my day, and I recognize the symptoms easily).  What they don't know is how it totally enervates me, and makes me unable to function in reality.  I don't care anymore.  I know one thing though.  If you are going to dope me, you are my enemy.  Don't you dare smile in my face, because I am sick and tired of being stabbed in the back by people who believe stupidity after stupidity.  I am a human being, not a fucking object for you to manipulate, and drug and incarcerate, and I will not, on principle, EVER, respond to being treated as I am treated.  You have destroyed my body, done permanent damage to my brain, and leave me in constant, agonizing pain, so just stay away from me.  I will take my Vicodin, Motrin, and sleep aids and pray that God deliver me from your stupid, evil hands.  Yes, the face of evil is becoming clearer and clearer now, and I am no longer going to be the enabling, caretaking, "good girl."

Friday, January 4, 2008

Absolutely stoned and suffering on speed

Absolutely stoned and suffering on speed as I try to force myself to get up and live life.  The dumb fuckers who have trashed my life and my body in their stupidity and arrogance have lifted the psychotropic drugs (not because they had any kind of epiphany either, but because I sought help from a legitimate psychic).  However, it doesn't matter because I still am disabled by speed.  At first the dosage was light--not strong enough to make me feel stoned, angry, and cramping all my muscles.  Instead the dosage made me lethargic and unable to move, focus, or concentrate on anything.  I can't even read right now.  The words are meaningless and just go right through my brain, like liquid diarrhea.  A light dosage of speed also makes me so tired that everything is a struggle.  Yoga, yesterday, was sheer and total hell, as I tried to get enough energy to do poses for an hour.  My legs were tree trunks and today again, they are so heavy that I can hardly walk about the house.  And then, I still have the Christians playing their stupid mind games with me.  I'm beginning to realize just how stupid I have been depending on the Christian Church for ANYTHING.  All I wanted was some support in this lonely hell that I am in, and instead I get these stupidass Christians contributing to my misery by doping me in public places.  Oh, and the smile on their face, as they think they are doing something great.  It is becoming inescapably clear--the only people who truly help me heal, and offer me comfort in my pain are the "pagans."  It took me 10 years to dump the Roman Catholics.  I may be stupid, but my learning curve is not going to be that long this time--it won't take me another 10 years to dump Christianity altogether.  I am trying so hard to deal with so many interior issues of pain and complexity, and instead, I have to deal with the chronic pain and alienated condition brought up by these drugs.  Fuck you Martin, and fuck all the damned Christians who keep doping me.  I WILL heal myself, despite all the damned extra weight you put on me. 

Speaking of weight, I can't type anymore.  My arms are too heavy with speed. They are numb and dead.