Well, slowly I am clearing out the dope from my system---and paying in my body for the lack of thyroid.  It is acceptable for now, since I can't stand to be high, but it is depressing to realize that I am going to be suffering from poor sleep and digestion again.  Even the texture of skin on my face has become more coarse.  But the prime concern is my mental health, and I can't function when I'm high like that.  I hate it. 

I also hate the fact that the SLI & Co is able to mess with my much needed medications, but I realized last night after getting hooked into a conversation with one of their nuns that I am involved in a losing battle getting involved emotionally in whatever way with those people.  McNamara and his whole community is founded and built on the principles of spiritual and psychological abuse, and they have much more power, clout and resources than me.  I am like a child and teenager in my dysfunctional family once more.  I outlived one abusive father, and I can outlive another.  I keep trying to figure out the best way to break free...as an adolescent, all I could do was wait for my father to die.  Is that all I can do here? 

One thing I can NOT do---which I did yesterday, when I was so mired in the deep depression caused by the dope--is allow myself to be angry.  Somehow, I have to transform this anger into some kind of positive action.  Jesus says "love your enemies," and Thich Nhat Hanh and the Buddhists would say to have compassion on them.  I guess if I think on it enough, that is possible.  After all, what kind of fear and lack of freedom impels one to try to control and manipulate another's spiritual choices?  The SLI, as well as religious fundamentalists of every stripe aren't holy.  They worship an idol of their psychological projection created by neediness and fear.  Now I am needy and I have fears, but I look to address those issues in reality, not by creating a bad ass father in the sky who then gives me a mission to coerce others into my beliefs.  I do need a sexual partner to complete me.  I can live without such a sexual partner but not fully, and not joyfully.  Something is missing.  I am afraid.  I am afraid of powertrippers and liars of every stripe (maybe this is why I let the abuse of SLI get to me---they have perfected the art of powertripping and hypocritical lying to an exquisitely high degree and cast over it all with a cloak of psuedo-spirituality (aka idolatry), that they sometimes name and justify by a more desciptive name---dogma.  I have to turn such fear into productive action, which is kind of hard when I'm monitored and prevented from free action on every side.  I can't even take the medication I need to get energetic and healthy, without them substituting their poison in it.  Even as I write, I'm suffering from stomach pain caused by stopped digestion.  But that's okay.  Pain I can deal with; a drugged up condition, I cannot.  If hypothyroidism is indicative of people who have stymied their self-expression, then they will pay a high price for swapping out my thyroid meds.  I will express myself every which way I know how, and get myself back on track naturally.

I'm just still debating over how best to do it.  But I think I know where to start

Doped up!

Yes, I am doped up again....sigh.  I missed another whole day from work after slowly reclaiming my body back from poisoned status over the weekend.  At least I know now what is causing my problem.  I felt fine this morning, ready to go to work, when all of a sudden it hit me---the feeling of being high to the point of incapacity,  It got steadily worse for a couple of hours, and then I slept most of the morning.  Finally, I got up and starting pouring down as much cranberry juice and mineral water as my stomach literally can stand.  Mentally, I feel a little better---able to concentrate a bit better, and keep my eyes open, instead of being ridden by the heavy darkness that kept calling me out to sleep and dream, but physically I still feel like I'm high.  Because I'm constipated again (a sure sign that its my thyroid glandular that they have swapped out with their poison), I went and bought an over the counter version.  I'm certain that it won't be as good as what I got from Dr. Philips, but at least I can try to get some kind of thyroid supplementation which I need.  I've decided to quit taking all my meds, and forget about doctors.  I don't trust them.  The whole medical industry is based on turning this society into a bunch of addicts---and one of the worst addictions they have needlessy created is this dependency on anti-depressants, which I am pretty sure is what I have been doped with during the past week or so.  I'm sure most people love this feeling of being high and out of touch with reality.  It is so much more easy to be passive and unfocussed, with one's disengaged emotions passing for serenity. Of course, the reason my emotions are disengaged is not because of lofty spiritual elevation that enlightens the mundane(though I honestly believe that a lot of religious seekers falsely aim for this), but rather that I am disengaged from the presence of reality, period.  I have no anger---neither at the abusive spiritual rapists who did this to me, nor towards any other indication of injustice.  In this condition, if I saw a woman or child getting beat up, I would just lightly walk away, ensconced in my private Idaho that I'm certain everyone would share, if they would just take the dope the good docors and priests and pastors want to feed us.  If I felt like this every day, I would never want to work, or exercise, or read, or anything, but just sit around and watch TV all day, eating chocolate (oh yeah, the body craves some of that white sugar to gives one's enervated, listless, slug-body a boost of energy and feeling of life.  I supposed if I wanted to be a tranquilized zombie like most of America (oh, and then I would be so much more amenable to the lies that the government, the churches, and corporations want us to imbibe), my life would be so much easier and I would fit in so much better.  But no, I prefer reality, however painful or harsh.  I prefer people who fight against injustice, rather than the ones who just passively swallow the Kool-Aid.  And that is what I was given today---and for the past week---massive dosages of Kool-Aid.  Yuck!  Trying to get it out of my system, just like that dose of Kool-Aid I just took from a SLI nun pretending to be littledebiechic.  Yuck!  Sometimes I despair that I will ever break free of those doped up religious nuts.  I wish I could talk to someone who loves me. But the most important thing right now is to start detoxing my body of this physical poison that is in it

laughing and mad at the same time

Well, I can't believe it.  The Catholic thought police have gotten into my computer and installed a parental control software package on it--CGuard.  It is running in stealth mode, but I found it when it was hanging up the computer.  They also have completely removed my Word from the computer, along with all associated file, including the chatlog that I had saved on a Word document.  They have set my Windows startup so that I cannot save any setting changes (I have insufficient security rights!!).  In other words they have only acted out on the implicit assumption that they have had for me for years---that I am a child, totally under their domination and control.

What made them so mad?  First of all, I recognized immediately their attempt to dope me up again, without my knowledge of course.  It made me immediately ill.  These psychological hacks and control freaks can't recognize that, unlike them, I enjoy being psychologically healthy.  I don't want to be doped up with dysfunction or half lives like them.   I want to be fully alive, healthy and whole, and sexually active.

Then there was the erotic picture I downloaded that I truly enjoyed as a background desktop icon.  Now that is gone, and I see that the Cguard prevents any image being captured as a permanent screenshot image. 

Finally, I actually dared to speak with someone on the Internet, who I actually enjoyed talking to--someone who makes me feel like a human being, a real person, instead of the objectified thing that the SLI & Co. do, everytime they try to approach me behind their anonymous screen names.  I can recognize a hateful twit, a smarmy bastard, a controlling misogynist within about 3 minutes of conversation.  I can even recognize their individual personalities, just as surely as they don't have a clue about mine.  Oh, but they don't need to relate---they hide behind their habits (with the veil of course), Roman collars, and doctorate degrees.

Fortunately, I'm not the kind of person who gets attatched to anything---not even my own writing or chats, so I laugh that these people think that erasing images and words from my computer is going to erase my preferences and feelings.  Do the hate that you want.  You can't stop me from being a horny lesbian waiting for the day I get laid, and you can't stop me from loving who I love.  You are just jealous that someone else besides your pathetic, dysfunctional, warped selves can actually motivate and inspire me.  This time, though, your actions are going to backfire.  You just about have put me in a position where I have nothing to lose.  I think I know my next step--I'm thinking and praying about it.  But no matter what my next step, I want you to know that you failed.  Your attempts to starve me from love and communication and self expression will not work.  I just about have removed the dope from my system that you put in, and I am feeling stronger and clearer and more free than I have in a very long time.  You can make me suffer, but you can't make me sell out to the same idolatry you have.  Bye bye you bloody bastards.

finished the novel about Bonhoeffer

I finally finished the novelization of Dietrich Bonhoeffer's life, which I have been reading for over a month now.  I couldn't help it.  I saw a co-worker who reads a book in a day.  I used to be like that, but anymore I get so involved in the richness of prose and my own imagination that I can't help but slow down.   In this case, I was reluctant to plumb the tragedy to the bitter end.  Of course, I knew how it ended and that made it worse.  I have just spent one of the most interiorly intense weekends as I forced myself to finish the last chapters.  I know that I need to do some extended writing on it, but it will have to wait for a couple or three days.  In the meantime, I will continue to think on what I intend to write, keeping my dream of Ratzinger from a few days ago, uppermost in my mind.

visit to the doctor

I took yesterday off to try to figure out my next move---how honest should I be in my writing?  I still haven't answered that question satisfactorily.  But I seem to be phrasing the question better, and finding support from another Christian who was in a similar dilemma---Dietrich Bonhoeffer.  I always have liked Bonhoeffer.  The Cost of Discipleship was the first Protestant classic I read that revealed the depth of spirituality to which I was accustomed in Catholic writers.  He writes with a felt urgency.  He is not accomodating God to his situation in the world; rather God is commanding him how to respond to his world.  And, as a Protestant would be, he is fully invested in the world--no running off to the monastery and visions for him.  I suppose there will always be room for saints who totally are wrapped up in the presence of God---and thus have little impact on the physical, mundane level of this world.  I no longer believe though, that such is a desirable model of sanctity, though I think it appropriate that there be periods of one's life when we are completely focussed on the divine.  I have gradually changed my mind based on two factors.  One is that I live in a world where humanity currently shows great contempt for physical, mundane world.  We are destroying the Earth;  our civil institutions and infrastructures have become veritable hells which breed and nurture violent, warped souls, who then attempt to salve their pain in drug addiction.  The politics of our nation, yes, America has been fostering this destructive and selfishly materialistic bent most efficiently since I came of age---with the Reagan revolution, and the churches have all been suckered into it.  So, I, like Bonhoeffer find myself at distant odds with those who claim devotion to faith and God, and put that devotion, quite blasphemously at the service of greed, corruption, lies and sheer incompetence, not to mention nationalistic and war aggrandizement.  I read an address by Granny D, ancient, wise activist that she is, and she hits it right on the head.  The religious right is fanatical in their politics, demonizing any who supports a prochoice option.  She says religious fundamentalists are  in love with the image of the unborn fetus because it represents their own unlived potential at the fullness of life.  They have sold their own fullness of life out, to live in a comfort zone of an authority cult.  For Bonhoeffer, that authority cult was the Nazis and the German National Church, oh yes, both Protestant and Catholic.  For me, that authority cult that impinges on me most directly is Catholic, but I know that the Protestants share the same dysfunction---all I have to do is look and listen at what I see and hear.  I've tried to make it clear that my faith vision is fundamentally different from that of the SLI and the Catholic Church but they don't listen.  They live in their self-cocooned world where they control everything, because they are controlled by their own need for authority---abbots, popes, a puffed up, swaggering, boy-man President...I am free of the need for such authority, but not of the pain and suffering caused by such authority, and yesterday was just another of that.

I went to the doctor for a pap smear---I haven't had one in over 3 years.  As I showered and drove, I felt that familiar dread that told me that evil awaited me once again.  There is no greater evil than that of being betrayed by people you once trusted, and it has happened so many times over the last few years, that I recognized the psychic sensation immediately.  So I sat down in the doctors office and tried to breathe, wondering how the SLI and their minions would torture me this time. 

First of all, they had the male PA try to exam me.  I have to say I picked up on his discomfort immediately.  He, unlike the priests of SLI, was a REAL man, which is to say that he respects female boundaries however they present themselves.  That is something that DD and WM know nothing about.  I got through that by just telling him that I didn't want to be touched by him.  So then (or after about an hour of being cold and nearly naked), I got the Pap smear.  I have never had such a painful, rushed pap smear in my life.  I'm a good judge of character, and I don't believe that the doctor was causing me pain through insensitivy (or the fact that I have a deep cervix).  It was like she was doing it on purpose, a suspicion completely confirmed when she went to feel up my rectum.  She seemed relieved too, when I pushed away. 

These stupid dumbasses--they have spent years webcamming me, and spying on me and my writing, and they still haven't figured out that pain and humiliation has no effect on me, except to make me more resistant.  That is not something they would understand, because these are a bunch of spoiled brats who never knew pain until they joined the religious order and experienced the artificial pain of contemporary religious life rejection. You stupid idiots.  You don't know what pain is.  Nor do you know how to motivate me.  You want me to have a realization of my cultic abuse.  You want me to remember being anally raped.  Well, guess what?  It won't happen in a doctor's office, with my own psychic dread telling me an ordeal is underway.  It will happen when someone I love sticks their finger up my ass in an act of love.  But that's something you can accept is it?  Love? Sexual love??? (OHG)  Homosexual, anal love--Never! Never!! Never!!!.  But then for all of your violation spying on me, you don't know me, and you most definitely don't know how to heal me.  So get out of my life, and let my homosexual lover in to come heal me.  Unlike you, I am not afraid of my sexuality or of loving.  Nor am I afraid of pain, suffering or death--as long as it is real, and not the artificial stupidity of your own patriarchal control and manipulation.  Poor sobs.  What are you afraid of?  The validity and healing power of homosexual love?  Too bad---that't the way it happens...

SLI

How did I first get involved with such an abusive religious community?   I was a youthful, recent college grad and volunteer in Southern Colorado when I first met them, and their youthfulness and dedication inspired me.  It also helped that I was full of self-hatred towards my own sexuality, and wanted to control it through celibacy,  so that in many ways I fit right into the model of a Roman Catholic religious seeker.  It didn't take long though, to see the serious deficiencies.  For one thing, there was the cult of personality around their founder William McNamara, who they considered a saint, but I considered a spiritual egotist.  As I read his books, I was further put off.  His spirituality, while powerful, was clearly tainted by the lack of humility and the broad, all-encompassing vision of love and grace.  He (and as his community always trumpeted) thought he was a great saint.  I know that people who think they are saints are actually compromised by the devil.  He and his band of monks and nuns never realized that.    Instead, it was clear that he was a macho, male-chauvinistic monk who thought he had untrammelled power to do whatever he wanted, and that included psychological manipulation and coercion to form people to be like him, not like Christ.  I have heard him preach on the gospel, "Do you not know that the Father and I are one," and realized that this guy actually inflates himself up to a divine incarnation here on Earth. What was especially interesting was that the day he preached on the particular gospel, the liturgical reading was actually from Jesus' words, "Call no man Father."  For all his legalistic adherence to rubric, he did not want to preach on that topic, because he is insistent that he be called Father.  I escaped from him, and the Spiritual Life Institute once.  The psychologist who was helping me to recover from the depression caused in part by my encounter with him, actually knew of McNamara and his abusiveness towards women in his community.  When she first heard that McNamara and the SLI were the community I had been involved with, her first penetrating comment, was "What did he do to you?"  Well, I wish she were still around, because the stories I could tell....of the incredible violation, abuse, power-tripping that I have suffered at the hands of this community now going on for eight years.  My God, how muchlonger do I have to pray to you to be free of these enemies?  How much longer am I denied the right to be sexual and to love?

Express yourself!

Well, according to an alternative healing book, a big part of thyroid health is expressing yourself.  No wonder my thyroid is so unwell.  I have quit expressing myself since I realized how heavily I would be punished for doing so.  Like the intellectuals of Communist Russia, I have been thrown in jail for daring to feel and believe what I feel and believe.  Of course the totaltarian thought and feeling police believe that they are doing what is in my best interest--"re-educating me" so that I conform to their model idea of who I am.  I know my reality is different, but my voice is stymied, out of fear of further abuse from SLI, DeBlassie& all their rich and powerful friends.  That these people are capable of abuse is undeniable--I just talked to Dave Denny yesterday under one of his false screen names he uses ti stalk me.  I recognized his controlling, fearful, and anima-alienated personality immediately.  But I have a choice.   I cannot stop these people from abusing me.  They have been doing it for years, and they have judges, police, doctors, and pharmacists as allies to administer the abuse.  I barely escaped jail this last time, and probably only did because of some intelligent people in the jail administration who know that I would be a marked woman if I went back.  They (and I) know why I would be a marked woman, and what that means.  That is something that my torturers have absolutely no conception of---what jail is all about.  They live in their little fantasy world where John of the Cross in the 16th century wrote poetry while incarcerated.  I will carry the abuse in my body and soul for the rest of my life, although if I am ever in a safe place---in the arms of someone who loves me--I might be able to cry it out.  I am not in a safe place.  My abusers and torturers spy and strip away even my most intimate thoughts and feelings, misinterpret them according to their model of who I should rather than the reality of who I choose to be, and then use them as a weapon against me.

Fact.  I am being abused.  Fact.  I am not able to stop it.   But I refuse any longer to be afraid of the abuse of power-tripping, abusive liars.  I cannot confront their lie and power directly, but I will strive to be as free as is possible in the oppressed state that I am in.  This is going to have to happen on a personal and political level.  On a personal level I am going to have to be as free and honest as I reasonably can (which is to say not completely).  I am in a totaltarian control trap that is as far from my God-given reality of freedom to be choose my own identity, as it could possibly be.  As in 1984, love is severely punished (unless of course, it meets with approval from the powers that be---i.e, is it open to procreation in every instance.  Bah!  What a crock of shit these religionists dish out to people in the name of Christ).  But I know I need love, and I know I need homosexual love.  I knew that last night when I saw Juanita with her girlfriend.  I was envious---they are allowed to love.  I am not.  But I have to make some kind of move, some kind of change, because that is what I know that my heart and soul needs to fully flourish.  There is also the political level.  I have to make some kind of stake and claim for homosexuality.  The damned Church, with their lies and legalism, is doing everything possible to destroy us.  They have already caused irreperable pain and suffering to me.  I have to do something to make sure that their power and resources do not continue to do this to my kind---those of us who sexually love our own gender.   I have to reclaim my voice somehow someway.  I will just have to keep at it.  I can't stop the abuse, but God willing, I will stop my own fear of their abuse from being another weapon they use to destroy me in the blasphemous name of God they invoke...

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