Saturday, January 31, 2009

Struggling to persevere despite intense pain

Struggling to persevere despite intense pain. Haven't been able to feel the muscles and nerves in my legs all day, but now the nerve pain in my thigh and pressure in the pelvic girdle is to the point that I cannot stand it--even laying down. Haven't been able to stand for most of the day tho I gritted my teeth and cleaned the living room. It took me about three times as long as I could do it normally, ie, not drugged up on psychotropic drugs that create a painful Parkinson's disease. And you wonder why I have resentment? When I am in forced, imposed pain that steals my life, my vitality, my ability to concetrate, read or think. I even gave up watching TV as too taxing. Yeh, I am resentful all right. Damned straight. I don't waste anger on these fuckers anymore. I just wish I could do something anything about the pain. SO depressing to realize how much muscle atrophy I have in my left leg. I force myself to work out, but I can't stop these deadened muscles from shriveling and disappearing. I tell myself there has to be some kind of natural way to restore my bodily health, but the best way I have found--through magnets--is easily circumvented. I had a magnetic belt that placed magnets all along my lower back. The magnets were weak but they worked somewhat. The belt has disappeared. I don't think that I will ever find it again. Got to think about what to do about surgery in marcho. I just can't bear any more of these goddamned implants in my body. But too sick on it to think. Right now anyway.

Thursday, January 29, 2009


Hell--only word to describe last two days. Too sick to read too sick to concentrate or foucus. Just want to sleep. Body in terrible pain back pain, abdominal wall pain,, left side pain. Muscles all messed up--cant stand. My house smells bad. But too sick to even do dishes. Dont know how i will sleep with thes pain. Gave to drive to po tomorrow, supposed to see Dale but I think i am to sick to drive. Cant function. Juist have one wish-0blivion, death, knock out, andything not to be in this body any more.

Another pain wracked nite

Another pain wracked nite. Drugs put too much pressure on spine. Couldnt be more miserable. Head so full of fluid i cant hold my head up. House is a mess but i am too sick to do anything about it. Life is so goddamned difficult.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Horrible night of pain and nightmares

Horrible night of pain and nightmares told me clearly, that once again the goddamned Christians are drugging me with their psychotropic poison. Of course, if the dreams hadn't told me, the absolute deathly ill feeling upon awakening would have. Once again I can't walk. Legs are dead, dead dead. The brain is unable to concentrate or focus, and the eyes don't want to open. Just want to lay in bed. This wouldnt be so bad except for the past few days I was actually able to function, not normally, true, but at about 70% of being human. Since I am a normally high energy and accomplished person, I could function. Now thanks to the goddamned opus dei pricks I am functioning at about 40% of being human. I had gone and bought a printer because I wanted to start writing to make my point of view clear, but the poor Inquisition torturers, they can't allow that. It ruins their whole thesis--how "mentally ill" I am, and how I am not able to accomplish anything because I am not being "true" to my vocation. Poppycock bullshit! I can't accomplish anything because I am drugged up to the point of dysfunction all the time. Every damned day I get a break, I struggle to get a grasp on life.
I saw a Christian stalker yesterday when I went to get a pair of reading glasses. It was kind of depressing because the proprietor was a man, and like most men he had no fashion sense. Well unfortunately, neither do I, and I depend on females to help me out (and I got to say, most females are very good at that). So the man told me "Come back with somebody who can help you pick a pair out." I didn't know how to tell the guy that I have no one, that I am like a 14 year old minor with repressive, anal parents and am not allowed to date or be free with another. So then the stupid Christian piped in, "I will help you." Well, out of politeness, I ignored her, but now I am going to say what I want to say to all
catholic and fundamentalist Christians. I DON'T WANT YOUR HELP. NOT NOW. NOT TEN YEARS AGO. NOT TOMORROW. NOT EVER. Do you get it? What the fuck does it take to soak through? I am sick of your fucking goddamned abuse and I dont want to be a part of it anymore. If you are going to send moronic idiots who don't know any better to stalk me (all to prevent me from having a chance sexual meeting of minds and encounters--come on, admit it, you goddamned prudes), you go right ahead, but don't talk to me. Don't interfere with me. There is nothing you can do to ever get me hooked into your sick warped perverted world view again, and that includes force feeding me psychtropic drugs that make me feel like shit. Yesterday, or the day before I started thinking of my college friend Mamiche, and how she told me years ago of how abusive and destructive the Christians were. You know what--Mamiche was a true friend. I look back on my Christian acquaintances, and I realize that NOT ONE of them was a true friend, because deep down, we are fundamentally and spiritually different (namely, people who are my friends, like me, would never do to someone else what has been done to me--the abuse, the hate and violation of my free will to extremes that I did not believe possible in this United States. This isn't to say that I am anti-Christian. There are a few Christians I know that I like and support. I try to get up in the mornings to go to the MCC Church but I can't because I am too drugged up (again, I think that is deliberate). Play your games assholes. I know the kind of spirituality I reasonate with and to, and it is not yours. All you do is make me so sick I can't function. Congratulations.

Forgot to tell about nitemare. Dreamed that Lt Lefall (prick commander of county jail who had absolutely no business in that position) was telling me he was going to take me back to jail. Also dreamed mother and child were being beaten and they didnt know how distressed I was by it. I had to apologize. Well, I am in psychic jail with these gd drugs that make it impossible to function. Some psych of the order of Lefall is making my life hell. And I sure am beat down. Also my stomach is all messed up and once agian I have stretch marks on my legs. I dont even want to know how much weight I am gainiong while these fuckers play games with my health. Cant keep going God cant keep going.

Monday, January 26, 2009

Diddnt take long

Diddnt take long for the gd fuckers to strt drugging me again. Face swollen with fluid. Left leg so messed p the entire leg is twisted and painful. Worse of all is the mental agony. Thanks assholes. Go find someone else to torment. Not interested in ur shit. but i see thru it. Just too gd sick to do anything about it.

Friday, January 23, 2009

Rough night last night

Rough night last night waking up with the miserable headaches, after having to go to bed early as I was so drugged up during yoga that I could barely drive home. They say that feelings will come out during yoga--well all I did was cry yesterday as I felt so bad that it was difficult to lift my arms. It is just so hard to acknowledge my loss of energy and vitality when I have always been such a physical person. A couple of novels by the sci-fi writer, Ursula K LeGuin, that I have just finished reading have helped me put things in perspective. One The Lathe of Heaven, was a novel about an "effective" dreamer. Whatever dream the protaganist dreamed became true--literally impacted reality instantantenously. So a "liberal stupid," idealistic psychiatrist starts to attempt to program and manipulate the man's dreams to create a better reality, except that they always backfire. The novel ends happily (from a moralistic perspective) with the dreamer able to disengage from effective dreaming (with a little bit of help from some aliens) and the psych in an insane asylum. So what did I get from that--some hope, I guess. I really empathized with the despair the hero felt when he realized what was happening with his manipulated dreams but there was no way, though he tried every angle, that he could free himself from the psych's control. But he persevered in goodness and humility until the psych's insanity imploded upon itself. Moral of the story--any one who tries to "control" reality or life is going to have it backfire. I believe that immoral control freaks (insanity might be the appropriate word) are trying to control my dreams while I sleep, and my waking life through these brain implants. Like the hero, there is no easy escape. But I can persevere in good intent, desire for and memory of, freedom, and humility until freedom comes. The second novel, Four Ways to Forgiveness, was about a time and reality when various "baby worlds" were encountering advanced alien worlds. It kind of reminded me of a sci-fi version of Things Fall Apart, the novel about the destruction and destabilization of a traditional (African) culture when it encounters an alien, technologically advanced culture (European imperialism), and how people struggle to adapt. In the novel several of the cultures had less than desirable social mores such as slavery and extreme sexism, and the various individuals move in and out of slavery and the limited "freedom" offered by the political systems of their home worlds, their adopted worlds, and the alien worlds. It reminded me again of how lucky and privileged I am to have been born an American citizen. I have known more freedom in the first 35 years of my life than most souls will ever know. I am sad now, because I realize that I am no longer free, that the brain implants are designed to enslave and control, and that is the future of all humanity (assuming--and I will do so--that we have a future). But, as the characters in the novel bear witness, it is possible to keep one's humanity even while living in the degradation of slavery. It will take an attitude adjustment. LeGuin is an affirmed Taoist. Not many people follow that particular religious philosophy. It is a very flexible, even passive outlook--a different emphasis from the Judeao-Christian orientation which exalts individual freedom and rights, and always wants to impact and determine social and cultural reality. I have to become a little more Taoist (or to use Christian languange, "Marian" or "identified with the crucified Christ") in order to survive slavery. Toward the end of the novel, LeGuin has one of her characters write a memoir of her early life as a slave, her move to freedom, and then the fall back to a politically delimited freedom. I have known freedom. I need to write it down so that the memory of what it is to be free can be kept alive.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Got enough energy to clean kitchen today

Got enough energy to clean kitchen today--it has been on my agenda for a month. Just either too damned lethargic or downright deathly ill to do anything about it. Also took on another agenda that has been sitting on my plate for a month--looked up the prescription that the dr. gave me for Inderal. As soon as I started reading about it, I started laughing to myself. My inner intuitive voice tells me immediately when a drug is good or bad for me, and there is no question--this is a truly horrible drug for my body (and in my estimation for anyone who doesn't suffer from a severe and life threatening heart disorder). This stupid pinche drug causes weight gain, hypoglycemia and insulin resistance, lethargy and mind fog, along with serious inability to concentrate. Now why in God's name would I take a drug that has these side effects when I already suffer from them at disabling levels? I'm miserable enough already with this lethargy and blood sugar/carbohydrate digestion problems, and difficulty concentrating. If I were to get any worse I don't think I could get out of bed. As it is, I have to drag myself out anyway. I just can't believe the stupidity of these people. This is bad news for me. No drugs to make me feel better, to make me feel human, to make me feel normal. Sick of this goddamned shit, and no relief in sight. A truly hopeless, despairing day on every level.

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Waiting to die

Waiting to die. Instructive exchange yesterday right before yoga class. As I was sitting there talking with a couple of middle-aged people about which yoga instructors were more "gentle" and "restorative" for those of us "who are getting old", I encountered felt resistance, and a few seconds later, heard one of the men tell another "I can't believe she said "getting old." It was a learning moment for me--yes Medeita, as hard as it is to believe, there are people my age who enjoy being alive and feel alive and vigorous." And I have to be careful not to assume that every middle-aged person feels like me--that life is over, that I willl never know happiness, vitality, joy, energy, bodily self-control, psychological free will and choice, and the love of a woman ever again. I hate to be pessimistic, but my middle aged peers don't know what it is like to tell the leg to move and have it sit there like a rock. They don't know what it is like to not be able to feel your limbs, to have to shuffle your feet in baby steps, and to consider a 30 yard walk to be a major achievement of which to be proud, and a 1/2 mile walk to be dauntingly fatiguing. They don't know what it is like to have every joy of your life stripped from you by chemicals and religious zealots and Nazi scientists. I used to be so full of plans and ambitions and desires to initiate and impact my life and those around me--to be open to the reality of everything and everyone around me, and to be in harmony through proactive prayer and good intent. Now I just stumble through the hell that is my chemical reality, amazed that I am able to finish a book (a novel) in 2 months that before would have taken me two days. Still can't think on the book like I used to, but I know it was worthwhile. No, the only thing I am good for these days is escaping this hellish, painful reality by watching TV, and sometimes I am too drugged up to do even that. It is 9 am in the morning, and already my eyes are shutting--my poisoned brain just can't handle even the most element of reality---visual stimuli. I had wanted to ogo to church and get some new speakers installed but like a sick, miserable 90 something senior, my desire to live is running into resistance from a body and brain that just wishes to lay down and die. I used to be so full of joy in life. My favorite scripture verse used to be, " I have come that you may have life, and have it to the full." I woke up every morning and the first thing that automatically came to mind was "Thank you God for this beautiful day." Now the first thing that comes to mind upon awakening is "Shit" Then come something along the lines of "Do I have to get up? I feel like death warmed over. Another day I have to suffer." My favorite scripture now is "the Light has come into the world and the darkness can not overcome it." Because my life is ruled by minions and poisons and stupid, unwitting stoolies of the dark--SLI, Opus Dei, security agencies, etc., all I can do is cling in faith (and memory of a happier time and reality) that whatever reason God has given me this hateful portion of suffering to endure as my life there was a time when I was in vital relationship with God and others (and if the stupid Nazi religious fucks think that my relationships were "psychotic" or "neurotic", so what? They were productive in every way, and I still am proud of them as the most accomplished achievements of my life and the way that they impacted the world and others in physical and spiritual ways and gave honor and glory and homage to my God doing so). Now I just drag myself through day to day, waiting for a release that I now believe will only come about through death from this physical plane and the suffering of my broken, drugged up body and brain. But I guess I have to keep my feelings in private, through the blog. After all, most people in life still have something to celebrate, still have joy, still have life. It is my greatest misfortune and injustice that I don't. Waiting for death--please speed it up God.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Messed up--

Messed up--dont know if it is excess csf or another round of psychotropics, just know eyes dont want to open-cant stand stimul. Once again, cant watch tv--all the images and people just too weird.

Respite from a day and night of hell

Respite from a day and night of hell--whatever drugs I was fed left me nearly paralyzed and going out of mind with psychic suffering (can't say for sure but I suspect their goddamned drugs create psychosis). All I know is that I cannot bear any stimuli whatsoever. But today is a new day--have to get up and on. It is getting harder though because I can't walk very well at all. My right hip is so bad that my entire right leg is numb and dead. I am so tired of feeling like shit and being in pain all the time.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

No sensation in legs or arms

No sensation in legs or arms--can't walk. Mind not able to think. This is going to be another wasted day in my wasted slave life. nable to bear stimul of any kind.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

206 pounds and all is hell

206 pounds and all is hell--severely depressed over my out of control weight gain. I dont know if i will be able to fit the clothes i just bought. I cant gain any more weight --i am at max at clothes already i cant afford to have own personal tailor. I am too short to carry this weight.
Severely autistic right now thanx to whatever fucking drug these assholes gave me now. Unable to keep eyes open. cant bear stimuli. Everything overwhelming. Yoga was very difficult because I could not stop vibrating and had no sensation in body--totally alienated from every part of my body--feel like a grounded beached whale. Very depressed that these fuckers keep playing games with me and destorying my body and my ability to digest (once again i have a cinder block in belly but its not caused by lack of thyroid--rather it is what they gave me). Unable to do anything. Too fucked up to write read or do anything.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

So fucked up on whatever psychotropic drug

So fucked up on whatever psychotropic drug these piece of shit assholes gave me that once again I am not seeing fACES (on the internet) normally. Great fucking job assholes. Not enough that you make it impossible for me to function, that you fuck up my body you just arent satisfiedc till im a fucking psychotic wreck like you evil sons of bitches. I was going to go tothe hospital tomorrow beczause i am in constant pain and cannot stand or walk but as nite as progressed irecognize sam old lithium symptoms--walking to smash shit, scream hit, rage , and mutilate myself, so i am now all worried that i will fuck up tomorrow and endsup in psych hospital (and never get out BECAUSE GUESS WHAT YOU EVIL FUCKERS--II WILL NEVER BE ONE OF YOU--AND I KNOW WHAT YOU DO TO GOOD PEOPLE, MORAL PEOPLE, HEALTHY PEOPLE WHO KNOW THE TRUTH). nope doesnt look good for me, but guess what inside you cant break me. got to sleep on it --expect another nite from hell--i cant even sleep in bed because i cant get in bed. FUCKING GODDAMNED NAZIS ND ALL Your evil minions--go to hell.

Incredible pain

Incredible pain--I am high on my own self-producing brain chemicals as it tries to block the pain (and very likely permanent damage) now done to my right hip by the goddamned torturers. There is nothing I can do to escape the pain, and now I can feel the nerves all involved--nerves on the right side of my knee and nerves going the entire length of my left side of my right leg all the way to the outside of the big toe. Great--how nice to know that I spent years fighting to keep my injured lower right back and hip healthy just to have it all destroyed by these fuckers and their totalitarian stupidity and disregard for human life. Despite every effort I have made in the last two days to stretch out the muscles going into the hip, I have gone from not being able to walk 3/4's of a mile for a constitutional to not being able to walk even in my own home. I have to drag the right leg with the foot clubbed out, and even then the pain is fantastic to the extreme. I cannot even stand up straight--the pain in the pelvic girdle is unbearable, and I immediately and involuntarily buckle. I cannot get into my own bed, as I can not lift my right leg up to saddle into the bed nor can I put any pressure whatsoever on the right leg to try to saddle the left leg up. Just what I needed==permanent hip problems and pain. All this caused by the massive push done by the emf and speed dope dealers just because I started to get a little closer to the truth. Well congratulations assholes--you've destroyed my body and left me in chronic pain.

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Stupid me

Stupid me--thinking my depression was a natural result of studying topics of deep evil. Nope--my depression is caused by the chemicals of TPTB as once more they force feed me poisonous shit to get me into passive alignment with an agenda that more and more I suspect. I woke up this morning feeling the full force of the goddamned chemicals (whatever the fuck it is), and I recognize the feeling--the feeling that I hate life and don't want to be here, and have to drag myself out of bed and force myself to live. But I can see now where the chemicals started (question, Tita--am I being force fed the chemicals so I won't dream the truth, and thus know and reveal all of their sordid schemes and plots--well I am sorry buddies, but I have an inner orientation for the truth, and I am incapable of sustained effort against it), or was I fed it day before yesterday? I think it was day before yesterday because for the last two nights I have suffered from the most crippling and severe of arthritic pain in my shoulders and neck. This happens when I am force fed drugs that interfere with my ability to naturally block (my otherwise omnipresent) arthritic pain. I cannot live at that level of arthritic pain. It is a gift from God that I am naturally able to block the pain naturally with my own brain chemical interactions, and these stupid assholes with their fake drugs and chemicals can't begin to even approach the level of my own self healing mechanism. So then, it stands to reason that they like the talking in tongues (no doubt they can interpret it, not because of a gift of interpretation from God, but rather through the most complete language database in the world, no doubt with ET input). So they like that. I guess the stupid goose was laying pure gold in my sleep and they think their drugs had something to do with it. Wrong again assholes. The need to dream was created by all the ideas from the research swirling in my head. Your goddamned drugs meake it hateful for me to go to sleep and interfere with my ability to dream. So then, the drugging started two nights ago--what impact it had on my dream life two nights ago was negligible, no matter what they might think. However, now the chemical has thoroughly saturated my brain, and I suspect it will impact dreaming. It sure as hell as impacted waking. The first thing to go yesterday morning was my ability to listen to music. First clue that the motherfuckers are feeding me psychotropic drugs. Normally, I constantly am singing--in my head, in my heart, on my lips--everywhere. When I need to focus mental energy I prefer to listen to music, so that I free my mind from its own natural desire to constantly sing. When I am sick with these psychotropic drugs, I cannot bear to hear music. The first thing I will attempt is to change the station to classical to escape lyrics (it's a brain thing--the brain cannot multitask and listen to lyrics and think at the same time). But then, soon enough (I've had years of abuse to figure this out), the brain can no longer handle listening to music at the same time as thinking. When it is at its worse, the brain cannot handle any stimuli at all. Right now I am listening to nature sounds--soothes me because it reminds me of being a little kid and being surrounded by nature sounds all the time. But I don't focus on it. Cant.
Second indication that I am too sick with psychotropic drugs. Unable to get the energy to do simple chores. When I felt bbetter, I started cleaning house, and there's just a few things I need to do to get the house where I want it. But I am too sick to take any initiative in even the most superficial of house cleaning, or anything else for that matter.
Thirdly,I wanted to get out of the house yesterday, but I couldn't even get the energy to get up and go for a walk.
Finally, the crushing depression has hit, and I no longer am focused on obtaining energy to do simplest of tasks. Rather I am focused on trying to find a reason to live in this slave body that I find so hateful and just wish to escape, anyway possible. Last night I watched some videos of B5 on the web and am reminded of Lorien asking Sheridan, "It's easy to find something to die for, do you have anything to live for?" The truth is I don't --trying to hold on to somehting, in the meantime forcing myself to function when I am so deprressed and in such physical pain. I hate my life I don't want to live it, and I am tired of struggling to sustain self against such overwhelming misery, slavery, and depresson.

Friday, January 9, 2009


Depression--struggling with the physical pain caused by the psychotropics--muscle spasms in belly and back and arthritis in the neck and shoulders, and the knowledge that there is nothing I can do about it. Also I have been doing intensive research in alternative media (unfortunately, I believe it to be true), and everything seems so dark and hopeless. There seems to be no way out at any level, though I suspect that there are true leaders and warriors fighting from behind the scenes of the media-played power who are trying to prevent the triumph of evil. But I have to take that on faith, because it certainly is not happening on the surface of things. This matters, because I am a victim of high level, powerbrokered evil, and it sucks because unlike most professional power players who suffer from the same dilemma, I have never made a bargain with the devil for personal gain and ambition, and my choice and preference has always been for the simple, free, and even hidden, life.
But depression is always personal, and there is no doubt that all this godamned speed and the physical pain it causes is severely depressing. Last night I dreamed I woke up speaking in tongues after seeing a man (who I did not recognize). I think I speak in tongues when I feel threatened by evil. Had a hard time sleeping and when I awoke my face was all puffy and heavy and coarse with fluid and depression. No, not a good night at all, and probably won't be again tonight. Already I am suffering from severe muscle spasms. I have to fight to keep going.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

After a truly horrific night

After a truly horrific night in which the psychotropic drugs caused tremendous and unbearable suffering, I am back on the more pedestrian psychotropics. The mirapex is gone and once again I am miserable with digestive issues. I think I am on speed which makes me high, and very very slow and sluggish. It is hard to function, but after yesterday's total inability to function and last night's hell, I have to say that I feel so much better. I learned today that that the Greek word for pharmocopia is sorcery. I have to laugh to think that TPTB--whether it be the Opus Dei idolators or the political NWO satanic idolators and their puppets, think for one minute they can make some alchemical change that will conform my heart to their heresy. Nope. Won't happen. But don't worry human haters, you can indeed destroy me, make my life unproductive and miserable--that is what you have done quite successfully for the last 10 plus years, and while I can hold on to my faith, I haven't yet come up with a strategy to overcome the bare and most basic of survival modes that I am in.

Monday, January 5, 2009


FUCK Y0U GODDAMNED ASSHOLES-=-IM tired of suffering because you goddamned motherfuckers wont give me my life. i am sick o0f being put on goaddamn lithium and goddamned arisperdo;. i wish to fuck i coulfd get my fucking hands on your fucking stupid psychs and priests behind this shit. as it is i have no sensation in arms or legs. eyes wont open and when they do they shut to keep out stimuli. full of the rage and suicidal mood swings that can only mean lithium. non functional rightr now. I am tired of being treated like shit. I am sick of seeing the goddamned Christians smile in my face. I want nothing to do with you, you goddamned abusive fuckers. Leave me alone. Not able to do antyhing. Afraid of how much weight i am going to gain this time around WISH I WERE DEAD GOD IF YOU CAN HEAR GOD TAKE ME HOME AWAY FROM THESE GODDAMNED TORTURERS. PLEASE GOD TAKE ME HOME

Very very sick

Very very sick--too sick to even try to figure out what kind of drugs I have been given. Clearly mirapex is gone, as my belly is bloated and have lost all appetite. Least of my worries though as once again i am suffering from migraines and cannot bear any kind of stimuli--easier to leave eyes shut. Horrble migraine last night I took pheregan, but even that had been tampered with. Today I am too sick to functrion. just want to lay in bed with eyes shut. so sick of this shit God. so sick. Interesting dream last night--dreamed of AD--second night I have dreamed of AD. She told me to take calciumtrex. I looked up calciumtrex on the web--it is a food given to live prey of reptiles (shall we say reptilians? sure why not) to better nourish the reptiles. I guess that my calcium lack really hinders the harvest nurtured by and created for the implants for their masters, so they keep giving me psychotropic drugs that make me sick to the point of nonfunction in order to increase their yield. Fuckers. and you think i will cooperate with you?

Sunday, January 4, 2009

So fucking sick as once again the mirapex is pulled

So fucking sick as once again the mirapex is pulled, leaving me with a head that floats with heaviness and an inability to function. Yesterday (when mirapex was in my system), I was able to clean my house simultaneously while watching football. Today, I have to drag myself to move, and just feel like shit and low energy to the point of nonfunction. On top of that I have the same old digestive problems. I had hopes to clean house today, as there were no games I wanted to watch, but I am back to being too sick to do anything. Thanks assholes. I bet that is what Bill Richardson is saying too. But he was stupid (or too potilically ambitious) enough to buy into your lies and schemes. I never have. Leave me the fuck alone.

Saturday, January 3, 2009

No New Year resolution for me

No New Year resolution for me--a long time ago I decided that as long as I am as out of control of my body as any slave that the only resolution for me is to survive another day. I am very upset because the Mirapex has been pulled. I knew it when I got the "pregnant belly" again. I think the Mirapex influences FSH and lutein which in turn influences my ability to digest and metabolize. I need the Mirapex to get my body back to normal there, but TPTB have decided against it--probably because it conflicts with the speed they force feed me. Instead I am being given some hateful drug at night (I don't think its Depakote, but it could be a low dosage) that causes me to wake up cranky and angry, and also totally ruins my ability to dream. Since I depend so heavily on my dreams to orient my waking life, that is a miserable, hateful hardship. But then my life has been miserable and hateful for so long that I just deal with it. But there is no question about it--there is no use for a lab rat to make a New Year's resolution--instead I just have to go back into maintenance mode--just trying to survive one day to the next, struggling to keep my weight from rising above the 202 pounds that I am now (I was at 196 pounds before they pulled the Mirapex) and I have gained six pounds in six days--but four of it is probably a fluid bloated belly. I have lost my appetite again, even though I am suffering with the crazy blood sugar and sick headaches again, but then that is my metaphor for my life--no appetite to live whatsoever. Just maintain, Tita, and hope that one day I will be a free human being again.