Haldol--once again figured it out, but unable to do anything about it.

April 8—More of the same. I was sick all night with nausea and a migraine. Woke up groaning with the same old groan that I have esperienced way too many mornings in the past 7 years—the groan of feeling like schit, the groan of hating the day before I even open my eyes, the groan of having to drag myself up and about. I got things to do—call and get my computer fixed, clean bedroom, get a plane ticket and call brother, all these little things, but it is too hard to move to do anything. I wonder if i am not being given b12 because once again, I have the “pregnant belly” and incredible fluid retention on my body. Yesterday my legs were grossly swollen with the familiar ¾ of an inch seam running down the sides or back of them. I guess I could call the doctor, but that takes energy too. Maybe I will feel better later……

Later—so very drugg up I am nonfunctional. I am too sick to read a book or do any concentration on antying. . now I am too sick to even watch tv. Nothing for it but listen to music hope to God I can sleep. So sic kof being drugged all the goddamned time.

April 9, 2010
What a waste of my time and life. I currently am suffering from a goddamned migraine and a tremendous rage (if I can open my painfilled, frozen eyes) that has me wanting to smash everything in sight. My digestive system and ability to eat is messed up (lithium?). I just have no appetite or the stomach to digest, but the headache and the edgy feeling of being on some kind of speed has me trying to eat to feel better—to get rid of the headache and to get rid of the brain/body separation alienation that I feel and that is driving me craazy. Legs are numb. Arms are numb. But I feel too bad to do anything about it. On top of all that, I feel that once more, I am being force fed psyhcotropics to deal with the mental aberrations caused by the virus downloads. So sick of this schit. My life is hell, neverending hell. Another sighn im on psychtorpics—I fantasize about blowing my brains out—my focking headache brains, my autistic brain. Im right, just like im always right, just like I have suffered unconsciously for years because you motherfockers wont listen to me. Maybe when they do the postmortem these fockers will realize what I keep telling them. I am autistic and I am fine as long as you keep alien virus schit out of me. I would rather die right now than live another day with these goddamned drugs in my system. GO TO FOCKING HELL BASTARDS

April 10th

Well, what do you know—God told me in a dream what drug I am being force fed. Haldol. I can’t believe the stupidity of Jesuits/Opus Dei. For when I was just on the B12 alone, my brain was not only able to accept the goddamned virus downloads but able to function quite well. I know this because I can tell the success and magnitude of the virus download by the dilation of my pupils--and they can get very, very dilated. For a few days, with just the B12, I could see my eyes dilating to saucers, but didn't experience the severe headaches, swelling, and muscle spasms as before. But with the added Haldol in my system I suffer from the brain swelling (caused by astrolytes, I think) which immediately gives me excruciating head pain, and the “fire behind the frozen eyeballs” syndrome. Too bad for them, because they can’t advance the virus with psychotropics in my system. I don’t give a fock one way or the other. I completely despise these celibate psychological and spiritual eunuchs and will not cooperate either way. So what was the dream?

The dream took place that had the feel of a retirement “old folks” home. It was full of the warm glow of unblinking Christmas lights and a colored bulb Christmas tree. That enviroment came directly out of a horrible (because it was about satanism and satanic ritual orgies) movie I watched last night called “Eyes Wide Shut.” The satanist’s party had the same colored Christmas light glow. Christmas without Christ. A pretty Christmas façade hiding the horrible, rotten evil of spiritual death and corruption. The place was full of decrepit old people, barely physically alive, but spiritually dead. I remember they were sitting around knitting. They reminded me somehow of Alison and Judy, two VIDA roommates whose treacly spirituality and limp vitality had literally run me out of their house so that I could live and pray with vibrancy, “have life and have it to the full,” instead of being half dead, walking around in a pietistic haze of unawareness and petty minutia. However, in the dream, to my horror, I felt just as dead as they did. I tried to tell one of the nuns (it seemed she was a nun), “I am not dead, I am just feeling sick, I don’t know what is wrong with me.” She handed me a note on which there was a prescription. I couldn’t read it until I turned it upside down, and it said that I was to be sedated on Haldol, with an acknowledgement signature of “Sr. Janelle.” I remember a Sr. Janelle—nice, inoffensive, sweet lady with the all spirituality and vitality of a worm—unfortunately too true of many sisters.

Also, too true of the patriarchal eunuchs who want to destroy my authentic spirituality and life so that it fits their “Christmas without Christ” spirituality—all colored lights and Christmas trees but no inner fire of Christ or a natural, humanistic vitality. As usual, I am being set up again for their goddamned doping intervention. Yesterday, immediately before going to Dale’s, I had to endure a major emp-initiated virus download. It overwhelmed me. Dale, who is aware of what such a download entails, of course, had to wonder why I was so messed up when I walked in, that I had to immediately start shaking, and was basically non-functional, and during the entire session could barely hold a communicative thread. But here is my question to the world—who is to say with what intensity that download was initiated? I think it was purposely amped up so that I would appear like a blathering idiot, so the Jesuit/Opus Dei spiritual and physical eunuchs could cluck their tongues and shake their heads, and say, “see, she needs medication.” Same old story, They make me psychologically ungrounded and alinated through drugs, so that they can drug me, because they want a half-alive zombie that they can suck vitality and power from through corrupt and unholy sacrifice, rather than a fully alive Christ-woman who condemns their world, their choices, their values, and their “sepulchred, whitewashed,” “Christmas without Christ” spirituality.

I think the download was amped up because I was feeling much better, human actually, for several days after the B12 breakthrough. But then they began interfering once again, and I knew it immediately—first thing that happens is that the stomach bloats out.

The other point of keeping me drugged and “kooky” is to alienate me from others. The absolute worst thing that can happen (which does indeed happen every time someone is able to relate to me in reality) is that people realize how healthy (if a little bit neurotic) I truly am. That is the real reason I am not allowed to work. Imagine their surprise, when I made a very successful, if brief adjustment, when I was allowed to work for a short stint as an election worker (probably, because they wanted to know who I would vote for). After making a remarkably positively impression on my co-workers, the message came back loud and clear,”No more work for you!” Then a year later, when I go to CA to visit family, my adult relatives are walking around on eggshells, believing the lie about how mentally ill I am. The only problem was that when I went to babysit three rambunctious kids for a day, I again showed how healthy I was. The kids don’t believe the mendacity of adult authority. They respond directly to reality, and they recognized my healthy personality as a healthy personality, and to make my case even further, I was very sick and low energy on that day. Even so, not only wasI able to babysit quite successfully, I even saved my nephew’s life (yes, you pathetic, lame-brained and limp-dicked eunuchs, I know exactly what went down), just like I know I have no gender identity issues—I’m an anomalous hermaphrodite, just like I know I am lesbian (though that gets kind of gray—if every cell in my body is XY, is my desire for women really lesbian?), just like I know that I have a vitamin B12 deficiency which caused immense suffering and nearly killed me until I figured it out, which would have been figured out much earlier if you had kept your stupid asses out of my medical relationships and treatments, just like I know that I have an autistic brain stem that is easily strangled with chemical downloads, (you won’t admit that, but I have been right every single time and I am right about that too).

Every step of the way, I am hampered by your drugs and handicapped by your power-tripping, patriarchal stupidity, so that I am barely able to function. I spent all morning dreaming in cartoons (original and creative cartoons, but still clearly cartoons), unable to get up and do much of anything. The body is too dead to do yoga, or even walk or ride a bike on this beautiful spring day. I am too sick to read a book or think through any thoughts or problems. I just want to lay down and sleep but first I will force myself to go post this. Then I will come back and sleep. But know this, enemies of mine and Christ, I will not spiritually die for your sorry, heretical misunderstanding and lack of faith. You may physically kill me (and believe me, I am so ready), but you will never spiritually kill me. You can force every damned drug in the world down my throat. It will never happen. And as long as I am alive I am going to give full throated expression to my rage. I suppose you think it mentally ill that I was so physically and vocally forceful regarding my disdain for Ratzinger and the problem of priestly pedophilia. I will be the first to admit that because the drugs made my inner world of feelings and images more compelling than the outer world of proper expression and reason, that I was over the top in expressing my contempt. Just one suggestion—get me off these goddamned psychotropics and watch how I express my contempt. I will do it through writing a blistering critique of priestly patriarchy as I have experienced it and how it exists. Take me off the drugs and you won’t see acting out so kinetically volatile. But I guarantee you, you will know my contempt. For Ratzinger is not only a pedophile—he is the worst kind of pedophile—a man who “sacrifices” (terrorizes and sexually penetrates) innocent children to Satan in ritualistic abuse. Damned right, I am going to stand up and scream “pedophile” in blazing anger. Except right now. I am so drugged I could watch a child being molested in front of me, and I don’t know if I would have the energy to even yell “stop.” That’s the whole point, isnt it, Jesuits and opus dei—to keep me so drugged I cannot defend myself against your abuse. Well you ar e right I cant but I can call on God to protect and preserve me, and so I do.