Archive for May, 2009

i will be healthier when i leave this apartment.

May 29, 2009

i’m looking forward to moving out of this apartment, even though i love it here and don’t want to leave the duckpond. what am i looking forward to: not being sick all the time.

sometimes when i talk about being sick, i get voices who make it sound as though ALL of my problems are caused by attacks and are artificial. however, ‘they’ are NOT omnipotent. they don’t control every molecule in the universe. people get sick, for random reasons having nothing to do with ‘them.’ my recurring illnesses are the unfortunate result of being chemical sensitive all of my life.

i’ve had more death threat voices than usual in the past couple days, people jumping on the bandwagon, since i commented about haldir of lorien. i usually ignore them. TIs get death threats all the time, like dobby the house elf getting death threats three times a day or whatever he says. my rationale is: if they intended to kill me, they would be able to just push a button on some device and make me stop breathing or make my heart stop beating or make some blood vessel hemorrage or something. if they were going to kill me, they would do it, and there isn’t anything i can do about it. i assume that they gain more by not killing me.

once i’ve moved out and am no longer severely sick all the time, i will be able to do more things – although i won’t be able to do as much as other people can do so easily. i’ll never be one of those extremely healthy people who wakes up at 4 am and accomplishes 100 productive tasks and falls asleep at 12 pm only to get up at 4 am the next day and do all of it again. for me, focus is important, due to my lack of energy, so i must focus on one or two projects of the highest priority, and skip all of the other things that i wish i could be doing.

but right now, with the clothing contamination continuing, and the moldy air in here, i still don’t have any energy. there are so many things i wish i could do, but merely getting up out of bed and going to work is usually the only thing that i can get done. i can’t even cook for myself and i have to buy fast food instead.

in addition to that, i’ve been switched to ‘distrustful’ towards everybody, and don’t want to associate with any of the guys who i met when i was in the ‘meet people and try dating’ phase. i’ve been feeling totally disgusted with all men. i know that’s not fair, and it isn’t really ALL men, but it’s any men who express the slightest sexual interest towards me. i should be specific and say that the men who are actively expressing interest in me also happen to be quite unattractive to me. and since i am too exhausted and overwhelmed with moving out, i haven’t been able to refocus my efforts to meet people – i have thought of trying other methods, like going to a church, to try to meet new people in this town. i also need to spend the effort of clarifying, in writing, the exact things that i am seeking, which requires me to go someplace more quiet, and less toxic, where i can think, because i can’t think very well in this apartment.

writing a blog is the easiest thing to do when i don’t have any energy.

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I am totally disgusted with all enneagram type eights right now.

May 27, 2009

Just about everything bad going on in my life, which has to do with criminal activity, harassment, cruelty, and just about every other pathetic and rotten thing that humans can do to each other, is from the type eights that I know.  It would be nice to see a HEALTHY type eight once in a while, doing good for the world, instead of scumbags, hackers, peeping toms, ‘perps,’ thieves, and everything else that the eights I know are doing.  Dishonesty, secrecy, sneakiness, cowardice, malice, and everything else.  I am disgusted with all of them, and it seems that I know several of them, and I am not at all happy with any of them right now.  As a group, and as individual people.

I would like to see a few people choose honest communication instead of cowardly avoidance, and choose self-improvement and making the world a better place, instead of stagnation and peeping-tom style entertainment for decades at a time, doing nothing useful with their lives.

Haldir of Lorien goes ‘ick’, then dies shortly afterwards

May 26, 2009

i’m going to warn everyone, this is a VERY negative blog today. i might have been drugged, or i might just be sick and in a bad mood. i might have a contaminant on me from something.

eric and i used to joke about how, in the movies, you can sometimes predict which characters are going to die. in horror movies, the characters usually commit some kind of ‘sin’ before dying. that way, you don’t feel as bad about seeing them die. but you don’t like to see the really good, likeable characters die. it even happened in the matrix, when mouse got killed shortly after he was seen looking at the picture of the woman in the red dress. in horror movies, ‘sinful sex’ is often the thing happening shortly before a character is killed. if anybody does anything ‘wrong’ or dislikeable, you can predict that they are about to die in the movie. ‘oh well, they were a jerk anyway,’ you say when the character dies.

it happened in the lord of the rings, which i watched recently. i don’t know what happened in the book (it’s been a while since i read it), but i have a feeling that the movie added a little bit of artistic interpretation when they portrayed haldir of lorien. (i think it’s haldir and not ‘haldor’ – i might check the spelling first.)

aragorn said ‘you are most welcome’ and hugged haldir with gratitude for coming to helm’s deep. and haldir’s hands were stiff and he seemed shocked or distasteful about being hugged by aragorn. shortly after that, he died. most people watching the movie would say something like, ‘oh, come on, loosen up and relax a little.’ by that time, everyone is fond of aragorn, and they think haldir is just being snooty and snobby.

i have sympathy for haldir having an involuntary ‘ick’ response to hugging someone. i’ve experienced 1. mange, and 2. transdermal chemical or drug contamination, from hugging people. (they called it ‘cooties’ when we were children, and people interpreted cooties as ‘lice’, but i interpret them as mange or scabies.)  mange is not just a nuisance to me, not just a discomfort – it actually causes big, infected scratches and scars all over my skin.

i’ve been forced awake, a couple hours ago, and people are asking me questions about dennis. about what’s wrong with him, about why i have very negative feelings about him.

he came into work yesterday and asked me why i wasn’t using the laptop he sold me (for a low price). he didn’t SAY this out loud, but, i draw the conclusion that this is because i went to the library to upload videos, instead of using the laptop at a wireless connection, which is what i told him i intended to do with it.

my reaction to this is a feeling of ever-increasing irritation and annoyance. why the hell do i need to be ‘secretive and sneaky’ right now? why do i need to be ‘secretive and sneaky’ about uploading a couple of videos? i’m putting negative words on that – i usually describe it as, wanting to be anonymous. the laptop and wireless connection is for sometime in the future if and when i need to be online anonymously. i am nowhere near ready for that project, and i have much more urgent things to worry about right now.

i would want to be online anonymously if i wanted to avoid: people who AREN’T surveilling and following me physically as i go places, but who are still capable of hacking or observing what computer i’m using. that is a specific group of people. people who are ONLY hacking some computers, but aren’t yet able to follow me everywhere i go, hacking into videocameras or whatever else they would need to do, or using an unknown method to follow me.

it’s not only that, it’s also, if i want to use a computer that doesn’t have the particular viruses on it that mine inevitably has. the wireless laptop will get ‘mostly anonymous and unconscious’ viruses instead of spyware directed at me personally. it will get whatever spyware is sent to me from the people who follow me around physically. those things are ‘slightly more difficult’ to do. it is slightly more difficult to watch where i drive my car, and then send some spyware to the wireless connection i use at some public place. (or force me to get the idea to go to a particular location which has been chosen for me in advance.)

i was impatient and annoyed about the whole idea of that. why on earth would i NEED to use the laptop and wireless connection right now? i have an urgent need to move out of this apartment, and that’s all i’m worried about. ‘being secretive and sneaky’ is very, very low on my priority list. using the library computers is sufficient. uploading the videos is ‘entertainment only’ and doesn’t require being sneaky.

i mentioned a few days ago about how i got contaminated with an unknown drug or chemical when dennis hugged me while i was wearing my brand new uniform. it was a very brief hug. because of that, i am going to have to avoid hugging him AT ALL even though i originally believed it ought to be okay to give someone a friendly hug. i was trying to convince myself that maybe it would be okay, as long as i wasn’t in uniform. but i am starting to think it isn’t even okay when i am wearing my normal clothes. his contaminant is so bad, it affects my mood, it makes me depressed, it makes me angry and irritable, it makes me nauseated, and based on past experience, i know that contaminants do not wash out in the laundry, but instead spread around to the entire clothing instead of being removed.

i am having intense negative reactions merely at the sight of him or the thought of him. when i see him walking into the store, i get annoyed and irritated about his slow movement and his zombielike stare. i get irritated at the sight of him and everything about him. when he was talking to me, i started to get nauseated (faintly) even though i was a few feet away from him – probably because he had been chewing tobacco.

i am not even trying to ‘boss him around’ and tell him what he needs to do. this is because i ALREADY KNOW that he will NEVER do the things that i believe he needs to do. i am going to be very harsh and very blunt. it is cruel, and cold, and that’s why i don’t want to say it to him.

he can choose to follow MY standards, or he can choose to follow the ‘mainstream USA’ standard of dress and appearance, in order to attract mainstream women (or he can choose some other standard, neither of the above).

for the mainstream standard, it means he will have to shave his beard, lose weight, take showers every day, stop smelling like kerosene and tobacco, choose different clothing, and get rid of his camouflage baseball cap. (*Note. ‘Losing Weight’ is not at all easy to do. I do not know how to do it. When I have more time, I am interested in researching obesity, what causes it, and how to reduce it. I’ve already done a little bit of reading on this subject, but I still do not know of a reliable way to lose weight. I view obesity as the result of some other health problem, something complicated, and I say that it is not the person’s fault. However, I mention it here because ‘lose weight’ is part of the mainstream USA recommendations, regardless of whether I agree or disagree.*)

i *HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE* baseball caps. i am so sick of seeing gaudy, ugly, multi-colored, patterned, or ugly-colored baseball caps ON EVERYBODY EVERYWHERE I GO. i can’t stand them. and it’s not only the color, it’s also the shape. i can’t stand the shape either, even if the colors aren’t bad. i have said this before in my blog.

i understand that people want to wear hats to prevent their baldness from sunburning. this is a legitimate thing to be doing. pale-skinned people will burn on top of their heads, sometimes even if they still have hair. dennis is bald on top of his head, so i can understand that maybe he wants to wear some kind of hat to prevent sunburn.

however, he wears his baseball cap pulled down low over his face, over his eyes, in the ‘i’m hiding my face deliberately’ style. he’s following the ‘i don’t want anyone to see me’ standard of dress. this is something that mainstream USA disapproves of, if you are interested in attracting women. he also has a thick beard, which, once again, in the mainstream world, represents the ‘i’m hiding from everyone and i don’t want anyone to see my face’ standard of dress. (in my natural grooming standards, a long beard is required (for ethnic groups that grow beards), and it does not indicate hiding or secrecy.)

he also wears glasses, which hide the emotions expressed by the eyes. i don’t feel quite comfortable about contact lenses, so i accept that people need to wear glasses in order to see. (*note: ‘energy saver’ light bulbs destroy your eyes. they are extremely bad for you. some of them are better than others. but i, and other people, notice my eyes burning very badly after i have spent some time near energy saver bulbs. i can’t read a book while sitting in barnes and noble, or in many other public restaurants and stores, if they’re brightly lit with energy saving fluorescents. when i walk away, my vision is blurry for hours. if you want to make your eyesight worse, use those bulbs.*) however, wearing glasses, in combination with a baseball cap pulled low over your eyes, and a thick beard, is all about hiding your face from everybody, according to the mainstream point of view.

i actually prefer an amish straw hat over a mainstream USA baseball cap. i prefer hats that do not have patterns or mixed colors on them. something simple. i tend to like hats that have a brim all the way around, not just in the front. i tolerate fedora-type hats better than baseball caps. fedoras were a fashion fad not too long ago, but they didn’t catch on, and baseball caps still rule.

i don’t know why i dislike those things, but i do. i would prefer no hats at all. (this is all from the voices interrogating me about what i like or dislike about people’s appearance.) but whenever i am forced to tolerate people wearing hats at all, there are some things i like more than others.

avoiding gaudy patterns: this is one reason why the amish chose to have all of their clothing simple and plain, because whenever you allow people to choose patterns and colors, they will always go down the ‘slippery slope’ and eventually you will live in a society full of people choosing the ugliest, most gaudy colors and patterns imaginable, which is what we have now. foreign people complain about the stereotypical badly-dressed american tourists. bad taste in clothing is something which is being frequently complained about, with regard to americans. i think this is a legitimate grievance. the stereotype is true.

in the usa, people think that having the right to choose gaudy, hideous clothing is a way of ‘having more freedom.’ and if they are asked to obey any standards at all, they see it as an infringement of their freedom. the freedom to dress really, really badly, all of the time, is a freedom that americans seem to value a lot. (yes, i have been interrogated about why i am so disgusted with mainstream society, why i hate television and fashion and all that.) they become indignant if you talk about possibly expecting them to dress better, or dress a certain way, or obey a standard, in their daily life (not just at the workplace).

i look at the amish people, and when i see them, i am never offended by their appearance. i don’t want to be amish, nor am i creating a community based on the amish, but instead it is an intentional community that might be described as a ‘reform’ of various groups and beliefs, taking the good things from them, and getting rid of the bad things. not throwing the baby out with the bathwater. and not necessarily ‘good or bad,’ but rather, things that i like or dislike. some of it is subjective opinion and personal preference. i say that i am ‘not offended’ by the amish appearance – they don’t look gaudy and awful to me – but i would ask that my community will disobey the bible with regard to long-haired men. the amish still keep men’s hair short.

so, that is what dennis needs to do for his mainstream makeover. i am not asking him to do that.

MY makeover is much more difficult. it is a chemical-sensitivity, decontamination, health-improvement, natural grooming, changing-your-belief-systems makeover. and i *KNOW* that he will never, ever, in a million years, even BEGIN to do such a makeover. i am definitely not asking him to do my kind of makeover.

my so-called makeover requires dennis to do these things:

decontaminate himself. he, and everything he owns, is covered with unknown chemicals, including kerosene, tobacco, and possibly colloidal silver, and possibly something else unknown. these chemicals go through the skin, causing me to feel depressed, irritated, angry, nauseated, hopeless, tired, and slow-moving. dennis himself is slow-moving, zombielike, and apathetic about achievement and self-improvement, and i am guessing that he, too, is sick from his own chemicals, whatever they are, whether he knows it or not.

to decontaminate, he will have to do the same impossible, awful, traumatic, expensive things that i myself have done. i already know about contamination, but with me, it was a life-threatening poison that could not be removed, and i was willing to do drastic things to get rid of it. you CAN’T clean poisonous chemicals off of clothing. dennis must throw in the garbage every item of clothing he owns, because ALL of it is covered with tobacco and the smell of kerosene, and something unknown.

he must leave his trailer. it uses kerosene fuel for heating, and propane gas for the stove. to be healthy, and to avoid inhaling fumes, and to avoid smelling horrible, you cannot live in a house that uses fossil fuels. he has to go someplace that doesn’t use those things. can you imagine me asking dennis to move out of his trailer? do you see why i don’t even bother asking him to do the things i wish he would do?

he will have to get rid of a lot of his belongings. even things like his computers are covered with an unknown chemical, and the kerosene smell. i know it because it’s on all of the computer equipment he’s given me, including the laptop. all of those things smell like kerosene, and when i touch them, i get hit with some drug or chemical through the skin. he would have to wash every inch of every object thoroughly, and avoid recontaminating them afterwards, which means they could not stay in the kerosene-smelling trailer. again, do you see why i don’t bother asking him to do this?

(i am adding this paragraph because ‘the voices told me to.’ they wanted me to talk more about the subject of weight loss. i actually wasn’t even going to say this, originally.) i do not know how to advise him how to lose weight, because as i said above, weight loss is extremely difficult. it’s something i’ve been interested in for a long time, and i’ve done some reading, but i can’t advise anybody about it. so i don’t necessarily ask him to lose weight. however, i’d ask him to change his diet, because there might be food sensitivities or other nutritional problems. so i would ask him to improve his nutrition, and his overall health. his food wasn’t that bad, when i ate over there – what i mean is, i don’t have a lot to complain about with how he eats. i liked his food and it was a good meal, and i appreciated it (i apologized to him several times about the fact that i can’t stand to be in his trailer with the sickening fumes). i don’t see any connection between the food he eats, versus how much he weighs. he doesn’t overeat. he doesn’t eat a lot. he didn’t eat significantly more than i do. therefore, i say that his being overweight is caused by an unknown health problem that i cannot explain.

to follow my natural grooming standards, he would have to do the things i describe on the page about growing long hair. those are extreme and unusual things to do, and they are not for everyone. i am not asking him to do that. that is only for people who are joining my intentional community, which doesn’t exist yet.

and this is where my ‘being blunt’ becomes ‘being EVEN MORE blunt.’ after doing all of those things, I STILL won’t have sex with him! he could do all of the things i tell him to do, but i still don’t want to have sex with him. he would have to obey all of those rules, only to find that after all of that effort, he still wasn’t getting any sex. instead, i would be hoping that SOME OTHER woman would love him, marry him, and have sex with him – BUT *NOT ME*.

that is why i said he could choose the mainstream usa standard, instead of my standards. mainstream usa won’t ask him to throw away all of his belongings and his clothing. most normal women won’t realize that there is any chemical or drug contaminating all of his belongings – only a minority of people will notice that. so he can get away with maybe just cleaning up and not smelling like kerosene anymore and not chewing tobacco. and he can also get away with not losing weight, especially because he isn’t severely overweight. however, he will have to (being even more blunt, here) go find a woman who would be viewed as un-attractive. not me. somebody else.

and again, i have been awakened at three in the morning and interrogated by voices, at a time when my stomach is burning and i feel very sick and i am in a very bad mood. and i’ve been getting more and more annoyed with dennis, over the past few weeks, because i KNOW that he will NOT do the things that i wish he would do to improve his health, improve his life, and improve his chances of finding a woman to marry, or to at least have sex with. i TRIED to give him what i thought was a basic level of human kindness, i tried to make myself willing to just give him a hug, just a minimum of human contact, but it turns out that i cannot even stand to touch him, and cannot even stand close to him without becoming nauseated and affected by his unknown chemicals. and when those chemicals contaminate my brand-new work uniform, and my other clothes, i don’t even want to try that anymore at all. and i know i can’t ask him to clean up, because decontamination is a HUGE project, and i know it from my own experience. it involves a huge expense, throwing a huge amount of your belongings and your clothing in the garbage, and it is extremely traumatic. i cried, and cried when i threw away my ephedra-contaminated clothing that gave me heart attacks every time i wore it.

and meanwhile, not just his toxic chemicals, but his behavior – about coming in to the place where i work, and then walking back and forth, and back and forth, and back and forth, six or seven times around the area where i work, hoping to catch my eye and start up another twenty-minute conversation about his computer gadgets or about his geneology project. while i’m on the clock! while my manager is right nearby watching me! while i’m being paid by the hour! while i’m getting yelled at about how i’m leaving work past nine o’clock when i’m scheduled to leave!

and so, merely at the sight of him, i am already very annoyed and irritated, every time i see him. there’s nothing i can do for him – i don’t think he’s willing to go to the huge expense of doing the things that i think he needs to do, in order to help himself, and improve his health, and improve his social life (i’d tell him to go join a church, if he wasn’t offended by religion). and even then, i can’t guarantee that it will help! i’d like to learn more about medicine and alternative medicine, but i haven’t had time for it. so, i still don’t know how to solve his health problems. (the health problems he doesn’t know he has! slow robotic movement, zombielike stare.) and after doing all of the things i would ask him to do, i would be hoping that some other woman would be with him, *not me*. so what motivation does he have to do it?

i can’t even say, ‘if you do these things, i’ll have sex with you.’ i can only say, ‘if you do these things, your health might improve somewhat, and your mood and behavior and attitude and psychological health might improve, and you might get another job, and some other woman, not me, might date you or marry you, but i can’t promise anything for sure.’

***

why did i give dennis my phone number and email address in the first place? this was a suspicious incident which fits in with all of the other things that i have been doing over the past year, and some of it was unnatural and forced. some of it was intended to be helpful to me because i have no friendships in state college, or at least i didn’t before. when i got evicted from my apartment a few years ago, i had to go live in my ex-boyfriend’s house, and we had huge arguments every day, and he became a puppet, and the beloved cats also became puppets, and eric was forced to initiate an argument (frequently, about nothing in particular, or about subjects we had already argued about) while i was in the middle of trying to sleep in between working two jobs, and the cats were forced to come scratch on my door loudly and repeatedly the instant i fell asleep. and if i let them in, they would walk around the room, knocking things over, climbing up on the table and the windowsill and the bed, meowing and acting obnoxious, making noises and keeping me awake, and then walking back out of the room again after having done nothing but make noises, and if i shut the door again, they would demand to come back in (as soon as i fell asleep), and do the same thing. it wasn’t like the cats wanted to come into the room and would then snuggle up and fall asleep on the bed beside me. they would just go in there and do annoying things. i knew they were puppets – i already knew about people and animals being forced to do things, at the time when this happened – so i forgave them and i didn’t rage at them, because they couldn’t help it. they were being controlled. all i could do, when this happened, was pick up the cat and put him outdoors.

this is why i had to find some new friends in state college in case i had any more problems like being evicted.

so that was part of the overall idea of trying to make contacts with people, so that i would have somebody, anybody at all, in case of an emergency. that was part of the reason why i decided to give dennis my contact information and try to make friends with him. i was expecting that we might email each other from time to time and just stay in casual contact.

i had already had a problem with dennis before that. in the beginning, i met him because i made a pizza for him sometimes, and i often griped about not being able to find the ingredients, and that type of thing. so that was how we started chatting. but at one point, i decided to start avoiding him, and i’m not sure why. i am not sure what prompted that to happen. i suddenly, completely stopped talking to him, avoided eye contact, and would go someplace else if i saw him walking around. maybe i had already felt as though his conversations were taking too long, while i was on the clock? i don’t remember for sure. so i was probably trying to stop having too-long conversations while i was on the clock – but again, that might not have really happened yet. i can’t remember the reason why i started avoiding him.

i went a while avoiding him. then i suddenly changed my mind, and gave him my phone number and email address. i was hoping that we could be casual friends, and i was hoping that maybe, if he had my email address, he could *EMAIL* me instead of trying to talk to me for twenty minutes at a time, in the workplace. i was HOPING he would do THAT. but that didn’t happen. he didn’t save up his conversations and write them in letters. he always had to go have that twenty-minute conversation about computer gadgets or geneology with somebody who’s paid by the hour. so, that didn’t work.

it was always an uncomfortable strain to spend a lot of time talking about computers and technical stuff. i learned a little bit about computers, because i HAD to, because i was being harassed by hackers. it wasn’t because i love computers for the sheer joy of working with computers and thinking about them and talking about them. it was necessity and maybe a little bit of interest, but not a lot. i could fake my way through a technical conversation, but like i said, it was an uncomfortable strain, not a conversation that i really enjoyed. and i was always thinking, ‘i have to go wash the dishes, i have to go get the trash out, i have to go do this… what was i thinking? i forgot what i had to go do, oh no, let me think for a minute about what it was i was trying to remember… i can’t think, this guy is here talking to me, i can’t think, i can’t remember what i had to do…’ as soon as he started monopolizing my brain with his computer-gadget conversations, i couldn’t remember all the tasks that i had to do, or how long it would take to do them. those are fragile thoughts, which are vulnerable to attack. i already have difficulty switching from one task to another, because it requires a form of hypnosis which is frequently zapped by the attackers and disrupted by voices and other events. (there’s a book i bought years ago, called ‘flow’, by some author whose name i can’t spell or pronounce – he’s russian, or something, and it’s mihaely michochenevsky or something, i’m just inventing that name. i would have to go look it up – the book is buried in a pile and i might not even have it here in pennsylvania, it could be in my book pile in west virginia. it talks about all the wonderful things i would be able to do if my brain were permitted to enter the mind-state known as ‘flow’ without being zapped by criminals, or slowed down and weakened by drugs and chemicals.)

okay…. this blog was a huge gripe. i warned you all that it would be extremely negative. and i still don’t know what to do about dennis.

oh. and also, on another topic, i had a dream-vision that one of my friends from west virginia was talking to martin and asking him why he won’t talk to me. and martin said, ‘i don’t feel like it.’

Feingold Diet books at the library

May 25, 2009

I forgot to mention this.  There are books you can read, obviously, for free. One of the original books is ‘Why your child is hyperactive,’ by Ben Feingold.  I’m sure that hundreds of other books have been written.  Anyway, that book also contains some lists of particular foods, but I’m sure a lot has been added to those lists since then, especially because new foods have been ‘invented’ or ‘discovered’ over time.

Criminal Psychology. Mister Mxyzptlk.

May 25, 2009

I mentioned sociopaths and mental illness in the previous blog. I wanted to clarify a couple of things.

Different motives for the ‘going into someone’s house and stealing three slices of bread’ phenomenon:

1. mental illness, sociopathic/antisocial personality disorder
2. organized crime/government – somebody is paying you money to do this
3. unpaid group activities – not necessarily government or organized crime
4. puppets being controlled externally, possibly when they are on drugs

1. With #1 (mental illness), you assume they are doing it on their own. You assume it is their own idea, that the origin of this impulse is internal. There’s something wrong with their brain. The brain is an organ like any other organ, and it can have diseases just like any other body parts.

2. Assume the person doing it is obeying orders and being paid money to do something that a group is telling them to do. They might be an almost-normal person. They might feel guilty or uncertain about what they’re doing. (However, the group leader could be a sociopath, even if the members aren’t as evil or insane. I have read that if a sociopath is able to ‘fake being human’ well enough, they can become leaders in the military and in government agencies. But they use the power they get to do inhuman things, like mass murder, or setting up large-scale electronic mind control/surveillance systems against the people of their own country.)

3. Unpaid activities – there could be people ‘having fun’ or ganging up on someone to harass them, but they’re doing it on their own and not being paid.

4. Puppets: if someone is on the right drugs, they can be forced to do almost anything. I have read about people who were found sleepwalking, and they were caught having sex with somebody while asleep, or driving their car while sleeping. It is caused by using certain drugs. If someone like this gets a suggestion put into their mind, by an outside attacker using whatever technology they’re using (and I have read about it, but I don’t know which specific devices are used), they can be made to do anything, to go walk into somebody’s house, or whatever.

I’ve experienced a milder version of this, especially when I am on antidepressants (but it can be done anytime, even without drugs – it’s just that it’s easier to do with drugs), where I am forced to say things or get ideas that aren’t my own. I like to assume that almost everybody who says things to you, if they seem as though they’re spying on you, if they talk to you and mention a private piece of information that they couldn’t possibly have known about, except that they’re a relatively normal, non-technical person who is usually nice, I assume it was something they were forced to say. I prefer to assume that – it makes more sense to me. I don’t believe that EVERYBODY who does things is being paid money to do it, or that they ALL are consciously aware of what they’re doing. Maybe some, but not all. And I know how it feels when it happens, when somebody else is putting words in your mouth.

About #1, mental illness:

I find the enneagram books (Riso and Hudson) to be very useful and very detailed. They’re useless if you have identified yourself as the wrong type, and you’re trying to apply information that isn’t relevant to you. I went several years, not being ‘allowed’ to decide on my own which enneagram type I was. I even took the test at the website, and it suggested I might be a type seven, but I ignored it, because ‘the voices’ had told me they thought I was a type nine, and later on, that I was a type six. They were the ones who decided which type I should think I was. So I could not use the helpful information in the book.

It is helpful because it can clearly articulate what you are afraid of at any particular moment. You might not really know what words to use to say what you’re afraid of. One thing the type seven is afraid of is: being trapped in pain and deprivation. And this is very accurate,that, for instance, while apartment hunting, I was constantly worried about whether I would get stuck someplace that would give me more health problems, and once I had moved in, it would be impossible to leave, because I would be too sick to do anything about it anymore. And about housemates, I kept thinking I didn’t want to be stuck with somebody who would be ‘boring and depressing’ and would monopolize all of my time by talking about things I wasn’t interested in. And this is very different from the things that all the other enneagram types are worried about. I am not doing this book justice in my description. It is very specific and very detailed. The motivation for a type seven is that they want to be happy, and everything in their life has to allow them to be happy. Whereas the other types have some other motivation, and they don’t care as much about happiness.

Here is an example of the difference between a seven and an eight. A type eight wouldn’t mind becoming the CEO of a ‘really boring’ line of business. I recently saw a rock quarry, and thought to myself how boring it must be to do nothing but sort through gravel all day long. However, if somebody could get rich by doing this, then an enneagram type eight wouldn’t mind running that business. A seven, however, won’t usually do that, because they would rather do anything but get stuck forever in a boring line of work, just to get rich. They might be willing to get rich some other way, but they don’t want to sacrifice the enjoyment of their job. They’d rather work someplace making slightly less money, but enjoying the work. ‘Enjoying the work’ isn’t as important to an eight.

Well, all of the types can become unhealthy, if they are physically and psychologically abused, or if they are physically sick, or if their environment has a problem that affects them negatively, such as a war, or economic layoffs, or a family disaster of some kind – anything in the world that happens and has a terrible effect on you. ‘Becoming unhealthy’ can be temporary, and it goes away as soon as the stress is gone.

Physical sickness: This includes ADHD, hyperactivity, food sensitivities. I am a type seven, and I am food-sensitive ADHD. When I was a young infant, I used to abuse animals. My parents tell me that I used to sit on them, torture them, pull their tails, and do other cruel things to them. I did those things until they put me on the Feingold Diet, and I LITERALLY changed OVERNIGHT into a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT PERSON. I am using caps because I cannot emphasize this enough. I will say it again: I literally changed overnight into a completely different person. The Feingold Diet began working on the very first day that my parents used it.

There are other similar diets nowadays – I read about something called the Failsafe Diet. I don’t like to recommend ONLY the Feingold diet, because you have to pay money to order their materials. I did, actually, in 2000 – I bought the materials. It’s just like a three-ring binder of papers with detailed lists of which foods to avoid. Why is this hard-to-find information that you have to ‘buy?’ Because it is compiled from decades of observations and also chemical testing to find out which vegetables contain the most salicylate, and things like that. It is specific, detailed information not commonly known to the general public, and NOT AT ALL KNOWN by the doctors who want to prescribe pills for every ADHD or autistic child. Thousands of people using the diet have listed their observations. Again, I don’t believe you should have to buy the information. I would be much happier to see it just posted on the web. They could find some other way to make money.

When you (a chemical-sensitive person) eat those foods, you become physically uncomfortable and miserable, and it affects the functioning of your brain. Some people can tolerate certain foods, but other people cannot. These ordinary foods contain chemicals that either affect your brain directly, or else they become changed into another chemical once they’re inside your body, and the new chemical affects your brain. Some of these are natural chemicals in healthy foods like fruits and vegetables. It isn’t all what we normally think of as ‘chemicals.’ It isn’t some preservative or pesticide contaminating the foods, but instead, it can be the gluten proteins in wheat, the salicylates in fruits, the casein in milk, etc.

Any of the enneagram types can be food sensitive ADHD. If you know their enneagram type, you can watch how they go down the levels of disintegration after eating the trigger foods. The rest of the time, they might seem like a relatively nice, calm person.

*******

Recently the voices have been saying the word ‘Mitzelplick.’ I recognized that word. It was a character on The Superfriends cartoon from the 1980s. He is in the comic books too, but I haven’t read those. His name is spelled Mxyzptlk, according to the Wikipedia article I read, but I think there is another spelling. I had to google it, and when I googled ‘Mitzelplick,’ it was always somebody struggling to find this character and not having any idea how to correctly spell the name.

He is portrayed as a hyperactive, evil, very powerful character who torments the superheroes. They say that he could immediately turn Superman into a pile of dust, merely by wishing to, but he doesn’t have the willpower to actually do it. If he killed Superman, he would have nobody to torment, and he’d be bored and lonely. He has to always have somebody to abuse and harass, for entertainment. This is similar to a very unhealthy type seven.

Years ago, I used to go to chatrooms, and I would sometimes make fun of things that other people were saying. The people in the chatrooms didn’t seem real to me. Every now and then somebody would get their feelings hurt for real, and complain about it, and I would feel guilty. There are some people in the chatroom who seem to be so drunk or so messed up that they can barely type, and I used to make fun of them, and even now, that doesn’t seem like a big deal. But I’m talking about this example because I was doing that back in 2000 whenever I hadn’t yet tried the Feingold Diet again as an adult. I started on the diet again, and noticed that I had much less of an urge to make fun of people in the chatroom. And nowadays, I don’t get the bored-lonely-restless-irritable sensation very often at all, where I feel like arguing for the sake of arguing.

The computer hackers who harassed me over the years behaved exactly like this. I knew exactly who the voices were talking about whenever I started hearing the word ‘mitzelplick’ in my head recently – the hacking incidents fit that character. They torment people for entertainment, but it isn’t the same as wanting to kill them or wanting to control the whole world. It is different from an unhealthy enneagram type eight. Petty tormenting is what many of the electronic harassment attackers are doing. And I wonder if some of those attackers are ‘mentally ill’ as in severely food-sensitive or chemical-sensitive, so badly that they cannot care about how other people feel. I don’t know if it’s as much of a ‘system’ sometimes, with a ‘universal plan’ behind it, or whether there are random people doing meaningless attacks for entertainment. And of course, it’s probably both. So, there are many different types of people attacking, and many different motivations for why they do it. And the enneagram is helpful for understanding why all the different types of people decide to do evil things.

I also distinguish between different types of attacks that I experience. If I merely hear a voice in my head once or twice, that isn’t as much of a big deal. Sometimes the voices say things that are informative, or funny, sometimes hilarious. Sometimes the people seem likeable. So it can still be a bad thing, but there are other things that are much more life-ruining: there is a constant stream of whispers that I hear, which I cannot avoid by driving away in my car. And whenever I silence my mind and try to think, the whispers immediately start saying things, and zapping me, and preventing me from thinking. This is a constant, all-encompassing, total destruction of a human being. THAT is much worse, to me, than a couple of incidents of somebody putting voices in my head. (*Note: sometimes the voices say horrible, disgusting, abusive, or terrifying things. This can be very damaging and it can destroy someone’s self-esteem and it can be life-ruining as well. I am not experiencing that type of attack. The voices I hear are usually more ‘benign,’ when I can actually understand what they’re saying.*) I mention that, because I think it’s possible for somebody to have gotten hold of this equipment to put voices in people’s heads, and they were doing it for fun and entertainment, but only occasionally, and there is a difference in how bad that is, how damaging that is, in comparison to the constant, unavoidable, life-ruining destruction of all thoughts and feelings, which always appears as soon as I try to quiet my mind.

I know that in the *cough* so-called ‘criminal justice system,’ they are supposed to make distinctions about how bad a particular crime is. Not all crimes are equally bad. If there’s ANYBODY who I wish could be caught for their crime, and put in jail, and prevented from ever attacking anybody again, it would be the ones operating the large scale system, what I call the artificial intelligence, the voice that responds instantly to everything I do, the constant unavoidable surveillance, the constant music playing that never ends, the repetitive sentences that interfere with my thinking, the one that zaps me as soon as I quiet my mind. Other people might do voice attacks on somebody, and then break the habit and never do it again, and feel guilty about it. Those aren’t the ones that I hate and want to put in jail.

There are different types of attacks and different levels of damage being done to a person’s life. And there are different motives for doing it.

mockery

May 25, 2009

this is a puppet blog, because i was forced awake in the middle of the night, and they were asking me to say something on retmeishka, which is becoming my favorite blog, as opposed to my regular blog. that’s partly because i like wordpress more for a few reasons. i like it that you can make a ‘page,’ and i like it that you can view all the comments that have been written to you. i also like the font, and i can’t find a font on blogger that looks exactly like this one. i also found out that i can’t locate a comment written to me on blogger, unless i go back and look at the notification email telling me i had a comment. other than that, i can’t find any page anywhere telling me that i have comments, or what they said, or where to find them.

i was hunting for comments because there was a ‘puppet comment’ on blogger the other day. it makes me wonder if my comments are prevented from appearing, until the hackers have some whim to let them appear, sometime later. it was because i had written about snakes, and how there was an anticoagulant in snake saliva. suddenly i had a comment appear, from a blog i wrote quite a while ago about the subject of plasma donation, and they mentioned anticoagulant in their comment, about how that could explain why you get sick when you donate plasma. they said that they put an anticoagulant in the blood while it’s having the plasma filtered out. that’s probably true because they do the same thing in hemodialysis.

******

more speculation and second-guessing about martin. right now (or at least, last time i looked) his facebook photo was apparently making fun of the face that i made in the test video i put on youtube, whenever i wasn’t sure whether any of my videos were uploading at all. i tried uploading them from the library, which has a faster connection than my dialup at home. but i kept getting a message saying ‘error,’ and i forget what else it said, so i assumed that nothing was uploading, and that maybe i was trying to go through a firewall or something. i went home and made a very brief test video of myself waving at the camera (and it must have been very amusing, because i also lifted my eyebrows, which martin seems to be mocking in his latest photo) and uploaded it from home to see if i was able to upload anything at all. suddenly i found that all the other videos had actually uploaded after all. several of them had uploaded multiple times, so i deleted them.

the snake incident: this was a puppet suggestion – my being given the idea to go do something. they suggest things to me that they know i will enjoy doing or enjoy talking about, but i’m guessing it has some offensive meaning to some particular person out there. or it was relevant to something happening to them, making it look as though i’m hacking their computers or spying on them, when i’m not. i had seen the water snakes last summer… but again, that had been an ‘urge’ to go down that road and go to the pond and wander around. i follow ‘random urges’ to go drive my car and explore someplace. and yes, i do enjoy exploring, but the urges come from them, not me. anyway, this time, i knew it was an ‘urge’ that i was getting from them, and a voice was suggesting to me that i go visit that pond to see if the snakes were out yet, and that i should take my digital camera now that i have one. i didn’t have a camera last time i had been there.

i have never been phobic about snakes, and in west virginia, we had black rat snakes, which are harmless, and sometimes they lived in our basement, and left skins lying around. my mom found one, and she just left it alone, and it kept living there. i don’t know how it got in and out of the basement. it was crawling through some hole in the wall.

i am not only ‘not phobic,’ but also, i actually LIKE them. i love the waving, rippling way that they move, especially while swimming. so to me, snakes are beautiful.

well anyhow, that resulted in martin making fun of my test video, unless he somehow ‘randomly’ got the urge to make faces and gestures that exactly resemble what i was doing, except with a little additional joke of his middle finger gesture. i don’t think it was random. that was partly because i had written to him that i too had a photo somewhere of me giving the middle finger to someone (when i was writing a comment to him about his photos).

*****

chase away the nicest ones, leaving only the meanest ones

this was what i used to do when i heard voices, in the beginning, several years ago. i used to rage at them, in my mind, in the conversations with them. i called them terrible names and said hateful things and told them i wanted to kill them. they always responded to murder threats as though it was a hilarious and entertaining joke, as though they were excited and amused by the possibility that i might kill them. it was all a big hilarious game.

but the ‘nicest ones,’ the voices that were actually being nice to me, were the ones who got hurt very badly by the things i said. they were the ones who talked to me as though they were trying to help, or as though they didn’t really understand what was going on. they would get hurt, and eventually quit talking to me, while the meanest and cruelest, most insane, most mentally ill, most abusive people were the only ones who remained behind, continuing to abuse and harass me.

i am getting that same impression from martin. it’s like he’s testing whether or not i’m ‘one of the nice ones.’ if i get my feelings hurt really, really badly by the things he’s doing, that tells him i’m actually nice… except by then, it’s too late, and i’ve been hurt, and i leave, and all he has left are the mean ones who are too cruel, too dependent, too mentally ill, and too stupid to leave. and that’s going to be twisted around to make it sound like i mean his other friends are all of those things, which is not what i mean. almost every word i say will be twisted to mean something else. instead, i am referring to whoever it is that he thinks is attacking him. because his behavior tells me that he thinks SOMEONE is attacking him. and i have seen other people say abusive and condescending things to him. i assume he believes that i’m one of those people, that i’m insulting him or making fun of him. he won’t speak to me at all, whenever we see each other in person. and he said very defensive things in email whenever i wrote to him recently, and threatened to call the police, and i don’t know what it is that he thinks i’m doing which is bad enough to call the police about. and he won’t explain anything.

i had wondered when he was graduating, because i didn’t know when he would leave state college permanently. i got the impression, from something he said to somebody, that he hasn’t graduated yet. however, i don’t know what he’ll be doing over the summer. he wrote in his blog that it was wasteful and inefficient whenever he visited state college over the summer last year – he made brief visits and stayed on the work schedule, but the gasoline and the other costs from visiting were high enough that he hardly got any money at all from working.

and if he was that worried about me reading his blog, he could have done a couple things – he could have changed the email address, and he could have changed the name of the blog, and told it to everybody else except me, and he could also disable anonymous comments. and no, that isn’t something that i ‘know,’ or that i have seen, but instead, it is speculation, as in ‘what he COULD HAVE done.’ chances are, he really did do exactly that, and it’s going to seem as though i ‘know’ about it, when i don’t.

they wanted me to email him and say something because he was obviously making fun of my youtube test video face. i’m not emailing him, because the last time i did, he gave me all this stuff about how i’m stalking him and how he’s going to call the police. ‘stalking’ is nonsense, because all i’ve done is send emails, and i don’t follow him from place to place, and i don’t know anything about what he’s doing or where he is at any time of day. i can’t even talk to him about what he thinks i’m doing. i can’t tell whether he’s doing a false accusation on purpose, to ‘make a point’ of some kind, or get revenge.

again, that’s a distortion or misinterpretation of what really happened. ‘false accusations’ – whenever the OVERT harassment and attacks began, when they became severe and life-threatening and life-ruining, in 2003, i was thinking that it was caused by this guy that i worked with, and i also believed that he murdered cindy song, a girl who disappeared several years ago. and i was preparing to tell everybody that this particular person had murdered cindy song. and that was when the life-ruining attacks began. so ‘revenge for a false accusation’ could be the theme of what martin thinks he’s doing.

what is the brief story of what happened a few years ago? i was being harassed by hackers, all of the time, constantly, so severely that i was thinking about changing my name, and leaving the country – and no, i’m not joking, i really was planning to leave the country, and get rid of my social security number. the hackers were watching EVERYTHING i did, my bank account and all that, and every place of business where i made purchases, and they used that information to harass me, to make fun of everything i did, constantly, to not ignore a single thing, to make a big deal out of things that should have been trivial and unimportant.

somebody was walking on a path outside my house – the path is visible and obvious, and there is always garbage lying alongside it – not large piles of random garbage, but instead, individual beer bottles placed at certain locations. and there are these (or, there used to be) lean-to shelters made of sticks – little groups of sticks piled together for someone to hide behind. whenever my then-boyfriend eric and i walked up there to investigate (because i told him somebody was watching my window and sending me emails about it) we BOTH saw the pathway, and the garbage, and eric noticed that there was a tree that had beer cans beside it, and he noticed scratches on the tree like someone was climbing up it, and bending the branches a little bit. i agreed that it looked that way. i climbed the tree myself. from that tree, you could see directly into the window of my apartment.

i tried to tell the police, at the time, and i got a ‘you’re delusional’ response from them. i had to explain: ‘he’s not emailing pictures of ME – instead, he’s sending emails from spam addresses, instead of his own address, and he has pictures of people who look exactly like me, and are standing in the same position, wearing the same clothing and making the same expression, and i KNOW it’s intended to look like me.’ and these were things that could only be seen by looking in my window and watching my apartment.

so at the time, i didn’t know who was doing it (i still don’t know) and i thought it was a guy that i worked with, when i was at state of the art, inc. i also started getting the idea that this person had killed cindy song.

why was i thinking of any kind of connection with cindy song?

because i was writing to the hackers, on the computer where i typed, all day long. i used to sit in front of a computer doing data entry. but hackers would mess with my computer, and i would write comments to them, knowing the keylogger would get whatever i wrote. and it was true, they responded to things that i wrote.

and i remember, early in 2001, i was thinking of where i would go for my vacation. there was going to be a spring break, or something, and i thought i would have the opportunity to go somewhere. this seems unusual because i don’t recall actually having a vacation. i don’t remember if i really had a vacation or not. i was at state of the art, i think. but i might have been working at sterling systems (which went bankrupt and laid me off). i would have to look at my address book where i wrote down what jobs i had and when.

anyway, i was thinking at the time that i wanted to visit new york city for my vacation, and i wanted to look at the twin towers. i had a photograph of the twin towers on my desktop at work for a long time. it was a view from across the river, with sailboats out on the water. i say ‘river’ but it might be the bay – i don’t know, i haven’t looked at a map to see where it was. i liked skyscrapers – i associated them with the books of ayn rand. (nowadays, i have different feelings about skyscrapers – they are now associated with ‘borrowed money’ and the fiat money system, which is something that i won’t be explaining right now, but it’s a subject i’ve sometimes written about in my other blog). so back then, i loved skyscrapers and saw them as an amazing achievement, like ayn rand thought.

so i didn’t go to new york. i had wanted to, but i didn’t. i never saw the twin towers except in photographs. but i felt as though ‘they’ had given me the suggestion: you’d better go see them now, or you will never see them. i didn’t know that the towers would be destroyed. but afterwards it seemed as though somebody had warned me ahead of time that they would be.

on the night before the september 11th attacks, i was thinking about something. i was thinking about hackers, about how i wanted to leave the country, about how i wanted to change my name and social security number to get away from the constant, neverending harassment. i was thinking about that, and i decided: i am going to stay here and protect my territory. and this somehow felt like a very big and important decision. i was thinking that a terrible war was about to begin. i didn’t know what the war would be like. i saw it as though people would actually be wandering the countryside, physically attacking houses and buildings, and that my house, my literal physical house, the apartment i lived in, would be attacked by somebody.

but i was imagining ‘old fashioned’ war, where people with guns (that contain bullets made of metal, instead of ‘sonic bullets’) would attack and physically kill you. i didn’t know that instead, the war and the attacks would be from groups of people driving around shooting energy weapons because of their misguided beliefs, or for entertainment, or for whatever reasons that they are doing it. and i didn’t know that actually, that had already been going on for decades, and was nothing new. so the ‘energy weapon’ and ‘sound weapon’ war isn’t really what i was imagining. i was thinking of ‘mundane’ war, not high-tech war.

then that day the twin towers were destroyed. and i was at work that day. i don’t remember that lady’s name, but this one lady came in from the other section of the office, and she said that – what was the name of the building? did she say the twin towers? no, she said some other name. some business name or – what did they used to be called? the world trade center. that’s it. she said that a plane hit the world trade center. i said, ‘is that in chicago?’ i didn’t know it was the two towers in new york that i had had a picture of on my desktop. i just knew those were some skyscrapers in new york.

after that happened, i started writing to the keyloggers that day. i raged at them about how they were insane evil monsters who enjoyed murdering people. and at some point, i don’t know when, i don’t know if it was that day, or some day shortly after that, but i said ‘follow the white rabbit,’ from the movie, ‘the matrix.’ i told the hackers to follow the white rabbit. and then, somebody really DID follow the white rabbit, and they took cindy song, because she was dressed as a white rabbit for halloween.

also, anytime i got mad at the hackers, and raged at them about how they were murderers, i accused them of murdering animals. and during those times, there would suddenly appear ‘lost dog’ and ‘lost cat’ posters around town, always several at a time. not just one random lost pet, but several at once.

when cindy song disappeared:

i had started reading the books of john douglas/michael olshaker in the year 2000, whenever i encountered the (insert several curse words) guy in the chatroom with his death fetish, who used to talk about killing me, and making something sexual out of it. and i had never seen a death fetish before, and it had never occurred to me that anybody could make murder into something sexual. well, ‘they,’ somebody who was influencing my mind at the time, suggested for me to go find books about serial killers. so that was how i found john douglas, who interviewed serial killers and found out why they did what they did. (i didn’t know, at the time, that anybody was influencing my mind.) there was also a tv show on at the time, about some serial killer guy, but i forget who.

well, after reading those books, i noticed things. i was more paranoid and distrusting. and i felt like somebody was stalking me and that i might be murdered. when the computer harassment began, i saw the hackers as the people who were threatening to murder me. they were always doing things to say ‘i am watching everything you do, everywhere you go.’ it was intended to be scary, and threatening, and ‘omniscient,’ and ‘omnipotent.’

(later on, i developed contempt and hatred towards them, and loathing, instead of fear. there is no respect anymore for them at all – they are utterly contemptible and pathetic. or at least, at the time, when it was ‘nothing but hackers’ who were harassing me. nowadays, i couldn’t hardly care less about hackers. although that’s a puppet statement. but what i mean is, i think sometimes that this or that particular person is hacking my computer, but it’s no longer a big deal – instead, i’m more concerned about the particular type of attack which is most life-ruining: the attacks that zap me whenever i try to focus my mind in silence, and think or feel or observe or sense, whatever i naturally am able to think/feel/observe/sense etc, using my mind and body. they zap me anytime i focus. it prevents ALL effective original thought. that is the attack that concerns me the most, and hackers are trivial in comparison. they are a nuisance or sometimes they even seem like a companion, because i believe it’s this or that person who is somebody i like.)

anyway, i believed that a particular guy at the office had a keylogger on my computer. he sometimes seemed to ‘respond’ to things that i had said to the hackers. i didn’t know about ‘puppets’ at the time. i use the word ‘puppet’ to mean: somebody who UNINTENTIONALLY and UNCONSCIOUSLY says and does things that seem meaningful or relevant to you, even though they didn’t actually spy on you, and they might know nothing about you at all, and they don’t realize that they said something that bothered you. it happens because somebody else forces them to say that or do that, and it’s not their fault. i know about this, because i myself have been forced to do things and say things, which i later found out were relevant to somebody else, or which made it look as though i had ‘secret knowledge’ which i didn’t have. so, i didn’t know about that phenomenon back then, so anytime people said or did things that seemed relevant to me, i assumed they were hacking my computers, or hacking the videocameras, or the telephones.

the guy in the office: on the week cindy song disappeared, he was mysteriously on vacation for several days. i seem to recall, nobody knew where he was, and it was unusual. he called off sick, or something. he was missing. then he came back, and he was usually ‘anal retentive,’ perfectly neat and tidy, perfectly clean shaven, but when he came back, his shirt was untucked, and he had several days of beard. i had read about exactly that, in the john douglas books. and i was already thinking about stalkers and murderers, and people who spy on your computer and harass you. so i was paying attention to this. anyway, he said that his wife had been very sick. but that was the day cindy song disappeared.

so i was getting this theory that he had killed cindy song. to make things worse, there was a composite sketch drawn which looked EXACTLY like him. and i have hunted on the internet for that sketch, but cannot find it anymore. i only saw it one time, saw who it looked like. the composite sketch was somebody who had been seen with cindy song, and the news article (which i looked at again recently) said, this guy was with her at the party, or something. i can’t find the sketch itself anymore, but it looked EXACTLY like the guy from the office who i was thinking had killed her. and again, she was dressed as a white rabbit, and i had said ‘follow the white rabbit’ to the hackers, while accusing them of enjoying murder, and expressing my hatred towards them, and my rage.

so the window-watching harassment was going on at this time, too. as i describe above, this person was sending harassing emails from a spam address with photos of OTHER people doing exactly what i had been doing that day – and i could not say ‘he sent them from HIS OWN address (because he’s a complete moron) and he has PHOTOS OF ME (because he wants to incriminate himself and make it obvious that he’s stalking me and watching my window),’ which was the only thing that the police could understand.

the police i talked to, they were too stupid to understand the mental illnesses of criminals, who do trivial things to make people suffer and to discredit them. the police didn’t understand what a ‘sociopath’ is, somebody who deliberately does extremely small, petty, trivial things, but isn’t actually ‘committing a crime’ in the usual way. here is one of the examples: a sociopath is somebody who makes a copy of your housekey, enters your house, and steals three or four pieces of bread out of your loaf of bread, while ignoring the valuable jewelry sitting on the dresser, and then leaves without doing anything else. and they do this merely for the purpose of causing you to get angry and frustrated and upset, and to make you look crazy. this is a sociopath. it is a mental illness.

‘the stupidity of our police’ is one of the rationales that i now have about why i haven’t really bothered to pay my local taxes for the last couple years. i don’t really want to bother paying their paychecks when THEY can’t even bother to learn about and understand the mental illnesses that sociopathic criminals have which cause them to do trivial harassment like ‘watch someone’s window, send them emails from a spam address, and spend hours and hours looking through photos using some kind of facial recognition software to locate pictures of OTHER PEOPLE in exactly the same position, with faces that resemble mine, JUST BECAUSE THEY *FEEL LIKE* DOING THIS PATHETIC ACTIVITY.’

so… at that time, i was nearly having a breakdown. and i was getting ready to publicly accuse this guy, and tell the police that he had killed cindy song. and THAT was when the overt attacks began. THAT was when i started getting hit with attacks of dizziness, and sudden reflux up my esophagus out of nowhere when i hadn’t even eaten anything and wasn’t feeling sick. i would be walking across the room, and suddenly out of nowhere feel like i was going to pass out, and feel like i was going to vomit. my throat filled up with thick, sticky mucus that was so thick and so dry, it wouldn’t move, and i couldn’t clear my throat, and i couldn’t cough it up. there was nothing there a moment before. i would try to cough and try to swallow and the mucus kept appearing, and it would make me almost gag. and i’m phobic about vomiting, so i really wanted to avoid gagging and vomiting. so i would panic whenever this happened.

i had no idea what it was. i thought i had an illness or that something was wrong, or that i was eating food that was giving me food poisoning, or that i was allergic to something. i was trying to troubleshoot my unexplained symptoms. in the past, i had always observed my own health and my own symptoms, and kept track of them, and tried to understand the things that caused me to be sick. but these incidents were random and unpredictable, and they had no correlation with anything.

because of that time period, i totally stopped observing all of my own health symptoms. when they are meaningless and totally disconnected from all cause and effect, you can no longer observe what you have control over, what you might have done to make yourself sick. you lose all control over what makes you sick.

and still, to this day, it’s hard for me to observe and sense my own body to notice where i feel pain, where i feel sickness or discomfort of any kind, the way that i used to. and when i try to sense and observe, i get zapped – they attack me during the mental silence while i am sensing the pain and illnesses of my body. sensing and observing your own physical sensations is THE ONE WAY that a ‘patient’ can ‘participate’ in their own medical treatment. most people don’t observe much of anything about their own bodies at all, and just trust the doctor to solve their problems by giving them a pill. but you can observe, yourself, what makes you feel sick, from day to day. for instance, if i eat avocadoes, my whole body is in pain and agony the next day. same goes for garlic, if i eat lots of garlic (and i LOVE garlic) i will be in agonizing pain over my whole body the next day. i used to observe those types of things all the time, but because of the criminal attacks, i abandoned the entire practice of observing my own symptoms and trying to correlate them with things i had done – because all symptoms were meaningless and disconnected from anything i had control over.

anyway, so i didn’t know that i was being attacked with a radio frequency weapon. i didn’t know about it… however, some of the hacker harassment involved them changing things on my internet start page. at the time, it was a yahoo page. i used to have a horoscope on there and lists of local movies, and comic strips. they would do things to the movies, so that all the movies were blanked out, except the one movie that they wanted me to go see. i would go see it, and find out that it was relevant or meaningful somehow in a way that i would understand. and they would do things to the horoscopes, so that the horoscopes were very specific and very relevant to things i was doing at the time, instead of being random.

(that was the reason why i stopped writing songs on my PC using the propellerheads reason software. i used to write songs, and i was working on this one song, trying to make it into a long, finished song instead of just a few experimental notes the way i usually did. i tried to make it into a long, complete, official song. i was working on that project, and started getting horoscopes telling me that i was doing a ‘good job’ on my ‘project’ and things like that. well, criminal hackers who i hate and loathe and am disgusted by, they have no place to be telling me that my song is good, because i saw them as evil and incapable of understanding or judging or liking the same things i liked. if you are utterly disgusted by someone, and that person starts telling you that they like the same music you like, and they like everything else that you like, it’s a violation of everything special that matters to you. you no longer want to like those things because they are contaminated with evil. so i went out and bought a laptop, which would never connect to the internet, and i put my songs there. i haven’t been able to write songs in the last couple years, because i have been fighting the severe illnesses caused by mold and also drug contamination in this apartment – and now, the table my laptop is on is also contaminated.)

well, the hackers were changing my internet start page. and they put a link to a news article, which was relevant. it said: ‘radio frequency causes nausea.’ so i read this news article, and read about the exact symptoms i was experiencing, and how it was done. they shoot you with a particular radio frequency, and it does something to certain cells in your brain, and, i guess, also in your throat, which irritates them and causes them to produce mucus and make you vomit and make you dizzy, depending on what frequency they use. i had never heard of this before. so that was how i learned that i was being attacked by radio frequency weapons. i didn’t learn it on my own. ‘the hackers’ told me. i assume that it was probably the very same person who was attacking me with the weapon, who was also putting the news article on my web page, but i don’t know for sure. he wanted to portray himself as being helpful, and informative, and a hero, by letting me know the truth of what was being done to me. but actually, i’m guessing he’s the same person who was pushing the buttons on the weapon being used to shoot me. he’s one of those ‘police officers who do something bad to you, then turn around and pretend to be the hero rescuing you.’ or a firefighter who sets a building on fire, then becomes the hero who puts out the fire and rescues you. (i read a recent news article about a guy who was shooting ball bearings at windows to break them, and then he was also the glazier who would repair the window. this is somebody literally acting out ‘the broken window fallacy,’ which is something in economics.)

anyway, back then, the voices started, and the radio frequency attacks, and he portrayed himself as being the particular police officer who showed up at my house to take me to the mental hospital, and other times, he portrayed himself as the guy who i had to report to for my ARD whenever i had to pay the fines. and somebody was giving me dreams at night, where i was holding that police officer, except he was a little boy again, and there was a feeling of warmth and love, in my heart, in the chest area, and i was supposed to become convinced that i was in love with this police officer, because of those dreams. but i was angry and cynical about them, and i knew it was fake, and of course, i didn’t fall in love with this police officer. (that was the time period when they began wondering why i find so few men attractive. it is because i like long hair and beards. everybody else looks bald and unnatural to me. it has always been that way. i am just not interested in men who shave their heads and shave their beards. and police officers are almost always head-shavers who don’t let their hair grow longer than an inch. military people are that way too, and i don’t find them at all attractive. if you’re a guy, imagine what the world would be like if ALL THE WOMEN around you shaved THEIR heads! how would YOU feel? why is the attractiveness of women somehow different from the attractiveness of men? i blame this all on a passage in the bible that says long hair is the shame of men, but the pride and glory of a woman.) i also don’t find large, muscular men attractive, but instead i almost always like thinner men.

so they started asking me, all the way back then, years ago, what type of men i liked, versus what types i couldn’t stand, and ‘police officers’ are almost always in ALL the categories that i can’t stand: shaved heads, shaved faces, large and muscular or large and fat. (the only exception i can think of is in the movie, ‘the fugitive,’ where the one undercover cop has long hair, but of course, he gets made fun of for having long hair. and that’s a movie, not a real person i’ve seen. i don’t watch very many movies at all anymore – that was from years and years ago. i liked that movie because it had one of my favorite movie themes: an innocent person is blamed for something they didn’t do, and eventually is vindicated and proven innocent, and freed from a prison (whether literal or symbolic) they should never have been in. i have experienced that myself, and have had that feeling for a long time. and as a TI – ‘targeted individual’ – it is very obviously similar, every day, being attacked constantly for no reason, when you are merely a normal person living your life, and you haven’t committed a crime.)

*******

so how does all of this relate to martin? martin’s behavior towards me sometimes seems like revenge or punishment – as though i’ve done something wrong, and he is trying to hurt me to get revenge for something. while refusing to speak to me, refusing to communicate with me, refusing to let me read any of HIS blogs, he is still obviously reading mine, and making fun of my facial expressions – while meanwhile, THEY force me to continue obsessing about him – whenever they wake me up at night, whenever they prevent me from sleeping, whenever i’m doing the dishes at work – THEY force me to obsess about him. instead of using my brain to think about something USEFUL that can actually IMPROVE MY LIFE, such as, i could spend that time thinking about what i will do to move out of my apartment. in the past, before the martin situation began, i used to spend my time at work in my own little daydream world, and i was often thinking about goals i had, things i wanted to accomplish, and i would think about building a shield, and i would think about learning more skills so that i could get a better job.

my coworkers, those who know about my situation with martin, don’t realize that i REALLY AM being FORCED to think about him all the time, and i’m not just spontaneously doing that on my own, merely because there is something amazingly wonderful about him that i just can’t keep my mind off of him.

and yes, ‘they’ (the attackers) found somebody who i would like, and who i would find attractive and interesting and who i would have things in common with, so that i would feel a genuine desire to either have a friendship with him or a dating/sexual relationship – so the forced obsessions seem believable. but in reality, they are forced. they are not real. i would have been thinking of other things.

and we can’t talk to each other, and i don’t know how HE interprets the situation. i know that he recently wrote me a couple of emails saying things that accused me of stalking and that he wanted to notify the police. and i can’t tell if he thinks it’s all a big joke, or if he really actually is angry/afraid and really does think i’m stalking him, or if he’s guilty of something and he’s being defensive, and lying and accusing in order to cover up his own guilt. i can’t tell what he’s experiencing or why he is doing this.

and now, we get this photo of him making fun of me because i had a silly face in my video. how am i supposed to interpret that? it actually hurts my feelings. it’s the same thing all over again: somebody who refuses to speak to you, but also, does things to get your attention, and when you try to speak to them, they won’t let you, and they threaten to call the police on you if you email them. ‘they’ messed with the pronouns in that previous sentence, so i changed it – the pronouns were inconsistent and switched back and forth from first person ‘me’ to second person ‘you’ and third person ‘them’ – but they were making it sound like he, too, is the victim of this manipulation and threats, and that ‘they’ are controlling him and preventing him from doing what he wants to do, and preventing him from talking to me. that is usually how i interpret it.

also, this morning, one of the voices said something about his sister. i don’t know but it sounded like his sister was also being attacked. i don’t know which sister, or if it’s both of them.

so anyway, they were asking me for a reaction to his picture, and i wasn’t sure about it. he seems to be making fun of me, but it also seems cruel, not just a humorous parody. and HIS face seems to be sad, or scared, and it’s a really weird expression, a mockery of me raising my eyebrows and waving at the camera in my test video. it is actually painful for me to look at the picture. and i don’t even know where he is right now – i don’t know if he’s gone home yet for the summer. anyway, i don’t know how to interpret his mockery. and no, i don’t see him as an enemy, i still see him as a potential friend, but i want to know more about his life and what he is experiencing. i can gather that yes, he reads my blog, because that’s where i mentioned that i had made a couple videos and put them on youtube. mostly, i feel sad and hurt – i assume he will probably show up a few times during the summer, but i don’t know. and how this will resolve – i don’t know that either – whether he will ever explain to me HIS point of view about the things that are happening. i wish that i could just ask him questions directly, and get answers to them. but the voice is always screaming ‘ANSWER MY QUESTIONS!’ and he won’t answer direct questions. or he does, but it’s something vague and confusing, or sometimes a lie, or a half-truth, or something that i can’t understand. and i can’t ask more questions afterwards to clarify what he means.

so, i wrote a blog instead of emailing him.

Untouchable

May 17, 2009

(There is another girl with my name, found on Google, who does some kind of dance or ballet routine to a song called ‘untouchable.’ That’s a coincidence – it’s not me.)

Well, this could be a long blog with many different subjects in it. I don’t know how long I will make it, or whether I might divide it into more than one entry. Maybe it won’t be as long as I’m thinking. It was going to be about an incident with Dennis, but then it connected to an incident involving Martin, and if I get into telling more of the Martin story, I also wanted to mention another idea I had, which would make the story get even more complicated.

Here is the ‘another idea’ first.

I’m noticing that I tell the Martin story gradually, adding layer by layer of detail. It reminds me of progressively encoded jpeg files. Whenever you save an image as a jpeg, you can save it in a way that tells the browser to load the image from the top down to the bottom (“standard encoding”), or else it can load it as a bunch of large blurry squares, which gradually get smaller and clearer as the image loads (“progressive encoding”). I saw my story as being like the progressive encoding, adding layer by layer of detail gradually. It seemed like a neat way to describe how the story was being told.

Back in the early nineties, I still lived in West Virginia with my parents. Dad used to tape Star Trek – Next Generation on the VCR. Then we would watch it together when I was home. We had this one episode that, for some reason, we all really liked. I could look it up on Wikipedia to find out which episode it was, because I forgot the name. It was about a time loop… (I should put a ‘star trek’ tag on this post! THAT would get me a lot of traffic! There’s a Star Trek movie out right now. Everyone would read my blog hoping to find a review of the movie, which I haven’t seen, and which this blog *isn’t* about.)

They kept going through a glitch in spacetime, over and over again, and the same events kept happening, like deja-vu. But people noticed slight differences, and they kept getting a ‘haven’t we done this before?’ feeling. By the end of the time loop, the ship was about to be destroyed as it was heading towards the spacetime anomaly, and they had to make a quick decision about how to escape. But they failed over and over again, and re-entered the loop.

Eventually, Data the android solved the problem by secretly sending himself messages containing the number 5. It’s hard to explain, but his message meant that he had to listen to the person whose ranking was represented by 5 stars on the little gold pin attached to his uniform. There were several people offering advice about what to do to escape the spacetime anomaly, and everybody was wrong, except, I think, Riker, who had the five stars badge. (It’s easier just to watch the show than to explain it.)

For some reason, my whole family really liked that episode. Even though it played the same series of events four times, it was interesting to watch them as they noticed the slight differences each time. I’ve thought about this a lot. A well-written piece of music will do this too. It repeats the same phrase again, but then changes it slightly, and the changes are interesting and surprising. It can’t be all new and random, but instead, it has to repeat itself a bit.

So it reminded me of the way I’m telling, and retelling, this story, adding more each time.

Like I said, this is really long because there was more than one topic.

Well, what happened with Dennis?

As usual, my complaint was about a reaction I had after touching him. But it was more than just that.

I recently got a new work uniform, and I also bought myself new work pants at Goodwill. I said that I thought I was having an anti-anxiety drug outbreak, but I’m not sure if that’s what it was. There are some other things it could be. After noticing the phenomenon of contamination, and finding out about drugs and chemicals that go through the skin, and finding out how hypersensitive I am to tiny amounts, it seems like I’m having a new reaction to something every other day or so. I can’t always know for sure where it came from.

But the work pants I had were over a year old. The cuffs of the pants legs dragged on the carpet at my apartment, which is contaminated. Every time I would wash them, that contamination would spread around and get on the rest of the fabric. I was able to tolerate it for a long time. However, I started noticing that I was getting very sleepy and slow every time I put on my work clothes, and I was moving very slowly and sluggishly while at work, even if I had been feeling energetic before putting those clothes on. That’s really a bad thing when I work someplace where I have to move quickly and hurry to get everything done on time. I was also having a forgetfulness problem, where I would feel a dopey sensation in my head, and then I kept forgetting what I was about to do. I would do one activity, like, make a pizza, and then plan to go fry chicken a second later, but forget what I was doing. Then I’d stand there for a few seconds trying to remember. This is a drug-induced, chemical-induced problem. It isn’t always from contaminated clothing. It happens to a lot of people, not just me, and it can happen for a lot of reasons, but if it keeps happening over and over again, then you have to find out where the drug/chemical is coming from. (That’s pretty easy if you’re actually USING a drug in the form of a pill.)

I think the forgetfulness problem is a combination of two things: 1. being on a particular drug/chemical, and 2. being attacked. The attacks I experience cause problems when I try to enter certain brain states, like focusing a certain way, or self-hypnosis, or dreaming. Whenever I am about to change from one activity to another, I have to change the way my brain feels, and I go into a brief hypnosis-like state where I envision and plan what I am about to do. Most of my attacks have to do with hypnosis and with visual planning and imagining. Even if it’s something simple and familiar, an everyday routine, like something I do while at work, I forget it, because I have to enter ‘planning state’ to switch from one routine to another. Forgetfulness happens to another blogger I read – I think his address is TIworld.blogspot.com but I would have to check that.

So anyway. I got a new shirt, but I still felt a problem with the pants. I finally got new pants too.

‘The voices’ went nuts about this. They were pestering me and nagging me about it for days. They were obsessed and full of anxiety. I will explain the reason. Last year at this time, I hugged Martin goodbye for the summer, but apologized to him because I had some kind of drug contamination on my uniform (I had already told him about my clothing contamination problems, so he would have understood what I was talking about). ‘They’ have been pushing me to ask him some more questions, to find out when he’s graduating (I still didn’t know for sure if he graduated this semester or not, but yesterday, he was at work, while the graduation ceremony was going on, unless he went to it early in the morning, but I don’t know what time they did it), when he’s going home for the summer, if he’s going to continue working here over the summer, etc. I am avoiding asking him those things (except in this blog) because he told me not to communicate with him.

Anyway, by getting a whole new uniform, right at this time, ‘they’ were obsessed with making it seem like I did it all because of Martin and was trying to do the same thing I did last year. That is *not* the reason why I got a new uniform – it is a coincidence (perhaps a fake, scripted coincidence) that I finally got around to getting a new one, after needing to get one for a long time. (Note: they *were* actually concerned that I would contaminate him, however I don’t think I will have any opportunities to do that. I cannot even look at him, much less speak to him, or request physical contact.) I got a new one because the old clothes were so badly contaminated, I could not function well enough to do my job, and was having brain problems and fatigue problems every time I put my work uniform on. It was because of myself, not him.

Well, ‘they’ were terrified that Martin would see my clothes and that he would mistakenly believe that I was going to try to do what I did before. They kept rehearsing, practicing a lie that I would tell. They thought maybe my coworker Christina would be the one who noticed and would comment about how I had finally gotten new pants. I was supposed to lie, and say, I got new ones because the old ones were really ripped and shredded. That’s true, they were shredded. At the bottom, the cuffs had ripped completely off, and there were always strings and threads unwrapping, and I had to tear them off. However, the truth is, I couldn’t care less that my pants were ripped and shredded. That had nothing to do with buying new ones. I would have worn them until they shredded all the way up to the knees before buying new ones, because I don’t care. Anyway, they kept forcing me to rehearse the lie, right before work. They were very anxious about whether people might notice that I had new clothing, and I was supposed to practice ahead of time and know exactly what I would say, and I was supposed to claim that it was because they were ripped and shredded.

(I used to wear a pair of jeans that had huge holes ripped in both knees, all the way around, so that you could see most of my ankles through the holes. And yes, that was in college, and I wasn’t shaving my legs back then either. Ah, the good old days. You’d be amazed how *few* people ever actually confronted me, or complained, or said anything at all, about not shaving. Every now and then I’d get a disgusted, grossed-out look from someone. But usually, nothing. Maybe a glance. Sometimes, I got compliments.)

But I had to argue against them verbally. I had to talk back to them. In the ‘real world’ I wouldn’t have to argue verbally against internal voices, because that’s *not* how the brain naturally works. You shouldn’t have ‘voices’ that you have to ‘argue’ with at all. If you ‘rehearse’ something ahead of time, if you are mentally practicing something you’re going to say, over and over again, for hours, while doing some other activity, that’s fake – it’s something they’re forcing you to think about. It’s not really you. That is what they were doing.

So I got angry at them and said I was going to tell the truth: if anyone asked me about it, I would explain that I have chemical sensitivity, and I got something on my clothes that made me sick, so I had to get new ones. That is the truth.

I made fun of them because they were terrified of ‘what would people think?’ ‘Oh my God!’ I said. ‘Martin might accidentally think that I wanted to hug him! THAT WOULD BE THE END OF THE UNIVERSE!!!’ Heaven forbid he should ever realize that I am attracted to him (even though I have already told him this, and he knows!). And not just him, but everyone else. What would they do – throw me in a mental hospital because I claimed that I’m sensitive to a chemical I got on my clothing? The worst that would happen is that they would think I was a little bit weird. *They already think that!*

I have my own reasons for doing things, and my whole universe doesn’t revolve around him!

So there is no reason to lie. Why do the voices tell lies about stupid, trivial things that aren’t even important? They tell lies about things that are no big deal, and they panic about it, like it’s the end of the universe, and this *absolutely must be kept secret!*

Yes, I was afraid this would be a long blog post.

So, back to Dennis. Here I am yesterday, wearing my new clothes. I felt clearer and more energetic than I had felt in months! I was working and I was mentally focused and I wasn’t all sleepy and slow. It was definitely the uniform, and I had fixed the problem. Yippee!….

Then Dennis showed up last night. I was leaving work. ‘They’ got upset about it, for a different reason than I did. Dennis wanted to give me a new computer gadget. I told him I’m postponing all my technical computer projects until I get moved to a new apartment. I just can’t focus on so many different projects at once. So everything he gives me is going into a pile, and it might be months before I install or set up any of it. And it’s not needed urgently.

However, Dennis is brainwashed to believe that his only value as a human being is his technical skills and his computer knowledge. This is a very strong psychological pattern and it’s not something where you can just push a button and make the belief system go away. So, he gives me computer gadgets, and hopes to receive love, affection, friendship, and physical contact in return. I have complained about this before, but I wasn’t very nice about it, and I described it as ‘paying for a prostitute.’ But it’s more than that. He’s paying just to be my friend.

So I was walking to my car and he was parked there. He gave me Little Computer Gadget X, and I don’t even really need it right now, as I said. Then he asked for a hug. Several weeks ago, I had told him we would occasionally hug each other as friends. This is a legitimate need and I respect that. I am the same way.

However, there are people out there who are less trusting, less gullible, less naive, and more paranoid than I am. Some of my ‘personas’ were *not happy at all* about Dennis meeting me in a dark parking lot after work, even though we have known each other for months. I do sort of agree with this. It was inappropriate behavior. Sue was sitting in her car talking on her phone, because she had left only a few minutes before me, so she was right there while he and I were talking. Still, it was not appropriate.

(You know, if I tagged this blog with ‘Star Trek,’ I wonder if it would get as many hits as the one blog post where I tagged it with ‘Family.’ That was the busiest post ever. That’s the one where I said Martin has some brother/cousin/friend who almost looks like an identical twin in one of his pictures. Apparently, that was the most interesting post I have ever written. LOL. ‘Family’ is one of the largest, most general, commonly used tags in WordPress. I think ‘most interesting’ is probably one of those ‘jokes,’ because I told Martin I thought he was ‘interesting’ in one of the emails when we were still talking to each other.)

Well, of course, when Dennis hugged me – and it was brief, too, very quick, a ‘shallow’ hug with very little contact – I started to get the tickly skin sensation, which means I got hit with transdermal tobacco contamination. Then I started to feel that I was getting into a bad mood.

We were there only briefly, chatting, and then I left. I drove around in my car for a while because I was getting into a worse and worse mood. I felt sick, depressed, ‘violated,’ hopeless, annoyed and angry. I am also frustrated, because I wish that I could help more people with decontamination, but decontamination is a *huge* project which involves throwing away clothing that cannot be salvaged, and getting rid of a large number of your possessions that can’t be cleaned, and moving to a new house where there aren’t any carpets… I myself am still doing *my own* decontamination!!! It is an enormous project, very expensive, very traumatic, and I won’t tell other people to do the same thing unless they have a life-or-death severe contamination problem. If your house was contaminated with a deadly poison that could kill you, then I would say yes, start throwing stuff in the garbage. That’s what I did when the ephedra problem started, which I’ve written about in earlier blog posts.

I am going to insist that there’s nothing wrong with Dennis personally, but instead, his ‘bad vibes’ are caused by something toxic, a chemical contamination. And I think a lot of other people with ‘bad vibes’ have the same problem. It’s a bad smell, and no, I’ve decided that ‘body odor’ isn’t bad, but instead, it’s chemicals or drugs, like kerosene and tobacco. Those are the ones that make people sick. The ‘natural’ smells of the humans themselves are much less disgusting than something like kerosene. So all these TV advertisements telling you that you have bad breath or you need to wear deodorant, a lot of those things are missing the real problems, or failing to explain what causes them – bad breath can be caused by metallic dental fillings… don’t get me started on the ‘medical diagnosis’ thing. There are health problems that can cause bad breath. It’s stupid to just treat the symptoms. Anyway…

Diana Leafe Christian wrote something that I agree with. I totally love those books. She (or maybe some other community-oriented writer) said that having communication skills means, you can talk about sensitive or controversial subjects, but still remain connected with somebody. You don’t just drop someone forever because they disagree about one tiny detail (or, not just a ‘tiny detail,’ but also, disagree about really big stuff).

I haven’t always been this way – in fact, it takes a lot of effort. I had been avoiding all human contact for years. I gave up on trying to communicate with anybody, and just used the internet for socializing. All of my sensitive subjects of conversation were too controversial, too difficult, and nobody understood, and I couldn’t talk to anybody. It’s still true, but – and I hesitate to ever say that ‘they’ have done anything useful or good – but ‘they’ have been encouraging me to talk openly about all of my controversial subjects with people, instead of hiding them and keeping them a secret. The goal is: to stay connected, to remain friends, even though you told them a painful truth, and they disagreed with you.

However, I do still have the problem of ‘too many new friends’ and I do need to set some limits about how to meet people from a dating website, because females really do get bombarded with dozens and dozens of emails from men, and you simply cannot accept all of them. As I’ve said before, it doesn’t matter what you look like. I got dozens of emails before I even put up a picture. There was just that blank ‘no photo available’ or ‘ask for a photo’ image there. All you have to do is, be a female. So even though I’m saying ‘stay connected,’ I might have to disconnect from some of the new guys who contacted me.

Anyway I have been telling Dennis about his contamination. I am making rules about how to avoid having a problem – for instance, I no longer go inside his trailer at all. I am going to give him a note to talk about it some more (he is disconnected from the net for now because of not paying the phone bill, because of unemployment, so I’ll give him a note on paper). I have to tell the truth, even though it is painful. The contamination is real, even if other people don’t believe me, and even though detox is a huge, expensive, traumatic project to do, and it’s not possible to do it perfectly.

So, my brand new uniform now has mystery material/tobacco contamination on it.

I’ve been remembering how in India, there used to be an ‘untouchables’ caste. There might have been a good reason at the time when it began. Diseases, drugs, chemicals, or skin parasites.

Okay. How does this connect with the Martin story?

Last spring, I was affected by even more drugs than I am on right now. I suspect that an attacker might have entered my apartment and drugged me, but I’m not sure. There were some unusual drug symptoms, and they weren’t the normal experiences I had from my contamination. So my emotions and moods were more intense, and, as I said before, I had a lot more courage and gall to do strange things, and also, the Martin situation hadn’t gone so badly wrong yet. So I wasn’t yet terrified to speak to him or approach him. We could still talk.

This event is humiliating to recall. The ‘inappropriate behavior’ incidents that I was doing at the time – it bothers me to remember them, and the beliefs and feelings, and the influences from ‘them.’ I remember that he was going to be leaving soon for the summer. At the time, I thought that he and I were going to have a dating relationship and that he was going to be my ‘boyfriend.’ (I don’t usually like to use the word ‘boyfriend.’ Man friend? I don’t know.)

So, at the end of work, I went up to him – and I had written a poetic blog which had been inspired by voices and images and thoughts that were part of the ‘this is a big huge deal’ attitude, the ‘deal of the millennium’ thing. I wrote a poem telling someone to come down from a high place, to meet me. It was both symbolic and literal.

(After I wrote that blog, there was a ‘voice attack’ that evening – I hadn’t yet seen Martin at work – and the voices were telling me to come down the steps out of my apartment, in the middle of the night, and I told them, absolutely not. I am NOT going outside in the middle of the night because the voices tell me to.)

So I asked him to come down to talk to me, because he was in the upper office area where you have to go up some steps and it’s a higher level place.

I had to ask him several times to come down the steps to meet me, because he didn’t respond, and he looked uncomfortable and embarrassed. This was ‘unusual or inappropriate behavior’ for me. At the time, I thought there was nothing wrong with trying to make friends with him and trying to talk to him, but it turns out that it was perceived as very strange or inappropriate. It seemed normal to me at first and I just felt entitled to talk to him whenever and however I wanted. So I was surprised, whenever he started giving ‘uncomfortable/inappropriate/embarrassing’ signals. I just took it for granted that it was a casual relationship and that I shouldn’t be afraid or uncomfortable about talking to him. So, I learned, in several different incidents, by being humiliated and rejected, that for some reason, it was ‘inappropriate’ for me to talk to him – even as a casual friend.

He finally did come down the steps to talk to me for a minute. I asked him if I could (I hate to remember this) wait for him out in the parking lot (yes, a dark parking lot, didn’t I just complain that it was inappropriate for Dennis to meet me in the dark parking lot after work?) because I wanted to talk to him. There was an awful look on his face, he frowned, or winced, and it was very obvious and very visible. It was an ‘oh no,’ reaction. He said he couldn’t, because he was about to go meet some friends someplace right after leaving work. I told him it would be really quick, like less than five minutes. So he agreed, and I left, and waited. I didn’t have to wait too long because it was almost time for him to leave.

He walked out with Emery beside him, so Emery would have seen that I was there. I was already ashamed, and regretted asking him to see me. And then there was somebody else who saw that I was waiting there for him. But at the same time I felt like I HAD to ask him a couple things.

So we stood by our cars and I asked him whether he was going home for the summer (I don’t remember exactly what I said) and whether this was his last day. A couple things happened. I would describe it as ‘conflicting or contradictory signals.’ He was sometimes showing ‘inappropriate, get away, leave me alone,’ and other times, ‘i’m attracted to you.’ There was confusion when he started talking. He told me that he was staying a few more days because he hadn’t gotten his work schedule changed soon enough. I felt as though I couldn’t understand the words he was saying, and I scowled and tried to ask him what he meant. The sentence seemed like gibberish, like he wasn’t speaking English. I have had this happen a few times and I’m guessing it means I was being attacked. However, at the time, it seemed to mean that he was either lying, or not being specific enough, or avoiding something. But I want to add: I have seen him, several times, act like a ‘puppet,’ and someone asked me just recently whether I had multiple personalities – I don’t have MPD severely enough to say that I have it, but instead, I remain conscious, and feel as though somebody controls me or forces me to say something, while I’m still conscious. I’ve seen him zone out, like going into a daze, and then say something strange, bizarre, or out of context, that had nothing to do with the situation. This is why I feel sort of sad and concerned, as I write this. I’m not angry at him, or blaming him, but instead, I feel like he sometimes has the same problems that I have. That is why I write blogs theorizing about what kind of parallel universe he lives in, what he experiences, what the voices in HIS head are doing to HIM.

(I hear them sometimes. They claim to be voices associated with him. They say, ‘For the last time, Martin, I SAID NO!’ It’s like an overprotective mother who won’t allow you to do anything. There are other voices associated with him, not just that one.)

The ‘i’m attracted’ signals: twice, while talking, he stepped towards me (not away from) to approach, then stopped himself. I hadn’t asked him to. I had to get all of my questions answered (another voice associated with him is always screaming, ‘ANSWER MY QUESTIONS!!!’) about what he was doing for the summer. So I was confused and didn’t really understand, but I got the idea that he would be here for a few more days, and then would leave. Afterwards, I asked if I could give him a hug; he hugged me, and my hair snagged his collar button, and he said ‘sorry about that.’ I let him go and we both got in our cars and left. I went home and wrote all about it in my notes, all excited about what happened with my crush. However, that was pretty much the last event in the ‘pleasant, innocent, trusting’ phase of our relationship, and over the next weeks and months, it very quickly changed into silence, avoidance, distrust, fear, and being unable to talk and unable to look at each other.

When I think of this incident, I keep remembering Dennis.

I’ve written before about my anxieties about touching people. I grew up feeling ‘untouchable’ and ‘rejected.’ When I was a young infant, I was *almost* autistic. I was hypersensitive to sounds and touch, and when people used to touch me or hold me, I would scream and cry, I would twist away from them, I would flinch and avoid them. My dad, in particular, could not touch me. It hurt his feelings very badly, being rejected by his own daughter. We talked about this after I grew up. I was very hyperactive and very uncomfortable, and spent a lot of time running around, or getting into physical fights about bedtime, and screaming and being loud, and climbing on things, and destroying things, and I even used to abuse the animals – I used to sit on the dogs and cats and pull their tails. (This is unthinkable to me nowadays. I am very, very gentle and loving with animals, and animals trust me instantly and are not afraid to approach.)

My parents put me on the Feingold Diet. I cannot advocate this diet enough! There are similar diets – the Failsafe diet, the wheat-free-dairy-free diets, the urticaria diets. A lot of diets do the same thing. You avoid certain foods and chemicals, and as a result, the child’s behavior and mood drastically improve, they calm down, they sleep at night, they stop screaming, they stop having tantrums, they stop having ear infections and other health problems.

So I turned from Hyde into Jekyll, literally overnight – on the first night of the Feingold diet, I slept through the night for the first time in my entire life, without waking up and getting out of bed and fighting. I was about four years old, if I recall from what Mom tells me. (She survived four years of pushing a screaming, fighting child into the bedroom, every night, and holding the door closed, against someone very small who had amazing strength and was able to push back. They tell me that I was like Linda Blair, on the movie ‘The Exorcist,’ who gets possessed by the devil.)

Dennis also had a major rejection/abandonment incident, around age four. His mother was unstable and she kept moving the family from place to place, and finally dropped off the kids with their grandmother, and left them. I still see ‘rejected/abandoned’ on his face, the sad hurt look in his eyes, even though he is decades older now.

Well, because of all those things, I grew up never feeling comfortable with touch. For a long time, I only touched people if they touched me first. I’m a little bit more courageous nowadays and I’m sometimes able to request touch, but not usually. I’m still very antisocial.

So I look back at the ‘inappropriate’ incident of talking to him in a darkened parking lot, waiting for him after work, and for whatever reason, just talking to him at all. And I don’t have enough time now to write it all because I’m hungry and I also have to get ready for work. But it is humiliating to look back on that incident, especially because he started avoiding me and refusing to reply to any emails or phone calls.

There is a lot more… I will build up the story little by little in more detail over time.

I told you this was going to be a long post.

the spam comments problem

May 15, 2009

it’s embarrassing to approve a comment that was originally sent to the spam folder.  i don’t know how akismet works, and i don’t know if it ever creates ‘false positives.’  i worry that i’m going to delete a comment from a real person because it was accidentally sent to the spam comments section.  then i might later find out that the same exact comment appeared on fifty million blogs that same day.  … oh well.  i have several other ‘spam’ comments that i approved.  but at least the spammers are saying nice things.

about the previous post – a careless comment I made

May 14, 2009

I woke up with a complaint (from ‘them’) that had to be written about. I griped in the previous post that I had been ‘surrounded by guys who were boring and unattractive,’ or something like that. This is something that you should not just carelessly say to anybody and everybody especially when some of your friends are reading your blog. I did actually give the blog address to one of the people I met online, but he was someone who lives far away and we haven’t met in person yet.

So, to clarify what I mean: For one thing, I got dozens of emails at the two dating websites I went to, emails saying things like, ‘Hey, wanna chat?’ as though they hadn’t read a single word in my profile. I had written a long, detailed profile with a lot of warnings in it about how bizarre my life is and how I need somebody who is able to sympathize with and accept those things. A lot of people behaved as though they hadn’t even seen ANY of what I had written. Then I would go look at THEIR profile, and they have barely managed to write two sentences about themselves. A lot of these people fell into the ‘barely literate’ category. At my jobs over the years, I have worked with people who are ‘barely literate,’ and people who aren’t internet savvy or tech savvy, and I have often liked some people and been fond of them in person, but when you are on a dating website and someone wants to chat with you, and the activity that you are doing together is ‘online writing and communication,’ then you want someone who is able to type and someone who is able to find something to talk about.

(I sort of fixed that problem, gradually, by restricting who could email me, and I started requiring new people to write longer emails. This did actually get better results, but by then, I was too involved in the emergency of moving out of my apartment to really focus on continuing at the dating website. And I still never did get the chance to go out actively searching, instead of passively waiting for emails. I had wanted to do that but was too preoccupied during this time period to put much effort into it.)

There is another explanation about that careless comment: that I had the impression ‘they’ were deliberately trying to prevent me from meeting anyone I would find very attractive. Since my emails get tampered with, I can’t know whether maybe I was failing to receive emails that people were sending me. So that’s part of what I meant: that ‘they’ had a goal of only letting some of the people write to me, and preventing others from writing, and making sure that only non-threatening people would write, people who were not competing to be the same things that Martin represented to me.

I had a ‘competition’ incident during 2008 when I was talking to another guy, who had given me a compliment, and I suddenly was given a ‘puppet’ urge to say something insulting to him. He was viewed as a competitive threat, which was ridiculous, because I myself did not see him as a potential boyfriend and was not actively trying to seduce him or get him to date me. There were a lot of ‘voices’ asking about this guy and worrying that he and I would get together. After I made the insulting comment, I felt horrible about it and he never seemed to trust me again. It was clearly a ‘puppet’ thing and I have written about the incident several times before in my blogs. So they were competitive and they did do things to sabotage any other relationships, even if those relationships were not a threat.

But I have actually met some people who I found interesting and attractive, and I have some new friendships that I haven’t been able to develop yet (partly because I am in the middle of a crisis). However, because of the brainwashing that is always going on, I have this ‘belief’ in my head that I must not try very hard to meet people or fall in love or feel any intense emotions about anybody, otherwise that person will get taken away or prevented from speaking to me, and Martin is supposed to be the person they were pushing me to marry, and I’m supposed to focus all my energy on fixing the communication problem instead of meeting other people besides him. Those beliefs aren’t real – they are the brainwashing-induced beliefs. (I use the word ‘brainwashing,’ and technically that usually means being forced to forget things, instead of being forced to believe things. But I use that word in a general way to mean ‘any kind of mind control.’)

So yes, I do have some new friends that I am staying in contact with, and I have met some people who I like. It was a careless comment to make.

About Martin – the abridged version of the story

May 13, 2009

A few more days, and I won’t be able to look at Martin’s facebook pictures. If you write an email to a non-friend, it says they can look at your profile info for one month.

I’m continuing to insist that ‘No Means No’ instead of ‘No Means Yes,’ which they are often forcing me to believe. I assume that he will be leaving in a little while, probably at the same time that all of the leases expire, around July 31. For whatever reason, they haven’t been as aggressive in forcing me to try to keep writing to him, but also, I have been feeling strange in the past few weeks, physically, and it could be because of that.

I am having some kind of unexplained temporary breakdown. I don’t quite know what’s causing it. It feels like something chemical. I’ve been numb and apathetic and yet I am anxious about moving out of my apartment. I can’t bring myself to talk on the phone to the various people who are trying to get me to move in with them or be friends or all the other things I was doing (my sentences are being messed with – the words are being dictated by somebody else). I have been feeling very antisocial. I don’t want to talk to anybody.

I’m wondering if this is related to the budding and blooming of leaves and flowers outdoors. Chemical sensitivity includes sensitivity to natural chemicals, not just manmade chemicals, and there are certain things in plants that can cause some symptoms in people. With the Feingold Diet you cut back on natural salicylates, for instance – they occur in fruits and vegetables. With that diet you eventually get to a stage where you choose carefully which fruits and vegetables you tolerate best, and avoid the ones that cause the most reactions. They don’t want you to completely avoid all fruits and vegetables. Anyway, I’m imagining that maybe the plants outside are emitting something into the air, and it’s making me feel strange. This is just a theory. I need to understand why I’ve been so messed up in the past couple weeks.

There is still mold in my apartment, and there is an outbreak of anti-anxiety drug contamination on my clothing, I think, and I am working on cleaning that up. I believe it came from the visit to New York, but it seems like there is a LOT of it, not just a little. So anyway, both of those things are making me somewhat numb.

I was trying to plan what I would do in the future, where I would live – and I was able to think about it for a few minutes, but then they began attacking me, and I could not think about it anymore. Big decisions about life are always disturbed the most by the attacks. It requires a special type of thought process. During big decisions, that is always when I most wish that I had an effective shield.

They still want me to talk about Martin. I don’t have a lot that occurred recently, because we haven’t seen each other or spoken to each other. And I, for whatever reason, haven’t been bombarded with as much of the lies and manipulations as I was for a while there. They were brainwashing me to believe things about him and forcing me to do things, forcing me to email him. And I was constantly terrified that he was going to call the police (about harassment) because I kept emailing him while he wasn’t answering.

I could write a long blog telling the story of how the ‘relationship’ began, but it would not be a very detailed story, it would just be a general story. In the detailed version, I would have to go back and reread the emails that I have sent to him, which disgusts and humiliates me. Every time I look at the emails I sent to him, I cringe. I literally cannot look at them, and I flinch away.

The first couple emails – I remember I woke up one morning feeling as though I had been drugged during the night; and I wrote the emails to him while listening to word-for-word dictation of what I would say.

There was a dramatic incident involving the voices, just before they started making things happen with Martin. I was crying one day (probably from drugs, drug withdrawal, or PMS – I don’t normally cry a lot) and looking at my life, how much of it had been wasted on disasters and chronic illnesses, year after year, and I knew that I would have to start having children soon, or I would never get the chance. I looked at myself in the mirror as I was crying, thinking, and talking quietly, and a voice said to me, ‘If you keep expressing emotions about this, I’m going to do something about it.’

I could go into details about all the things that were happening at the time, but I’m not sure I’m able to get into the right mindset to do that. This feels like the slightly abridged version, not the extremely thorough version.

It was early in 2008. My apartment had been contaminated with the herbs through most of 2007. I had lost a job at McDonald’s – yet another disaster. This is when I remember that incident happening, that time when I was crying and talking.

I had been ‘hearing voices’, and had been consciously aware of it, and had interpreted it as external attackers using something technological, since about 2003. Before that, I didn’t know or understand what was going on with my mental experiences – I just had problems with ‘hackers’ in my computer, every place where I worked, and they were cyberstalking and harassing me; and I had met a guy in a chatroom, and was trying to email him, while he ignored me. I still had chronic illnesses and fatigue, and digestive problems occasionally, and was sometimes using herbal drugs.

However, I hadn’t publicly blogged about hearing voices or the other mental experiences and the attacks. I wrote about other topics, but kept the ‘voices’ a secret.

So… early in 2008, they said they would ‘do something about it,’ about how I wanted to have children soon. This is why they started calling my attention to Martin. The ‘brainwashing campaign’ began trying to convince me that Martin and I were going to marry each other and have children together – nobody bothered asking me, or him, for our consent about this. They just started forcing things to happen.

So they started telling me things about him, personal information, and I couldn’t know if they were true or not. Mostly they just made me notice him and pay attention to him. I’m not going into too much detail here, because it really would be sexual harassment if I wrote all the things they said. I thought he was attractive and I was willing to try some kind of ‘dating’ relationship, or a friendship if he didn’t want that, but they kept pushing me to MARRY him, and making it seem like this was ***THE DEAL OF THE MILLENNIUM!!!!*** It angers me, because they were pushing for all of these things, and meanwhile, he started avoiding me, refusing to communicate, not letting me get to know him, not talking to me, yet they STILL kept insisting that he and I were going to marry each other, like it or not (who cares if we’re not speaking? I guess husbands and wives don’t need to talk to each other, or know anything about each other.).

But I’m jumping ahead in the story. In the beginning it was okay.

A Basic Instructions comic from that time period said that an alien took the bald guy and offered to give him whatever he wanted, and he said that he wanted a beautiful woman to bring him hot wings. This was one of those ‘coincidences,’ where the comic strips started talking about things that were going on in my life. We had an incident where Martin wanted to get some fried chicken and I got all upset because the stuff we had was all old and lukewarm and stale, and I wanted to cook new ones, but he took the old ones. There was another guy, Matt, who was there at the time participating in all this and ringing him up at the register. Anyway, after that incident, the voices told me it was all a joke, and the joke was ‘Old birds are still hot.’ That was referring to me, because I was 33 and he was 21.

So, during that time, nothing terrible had happened yet, and we were able to talk to each other. I was all flustered and excited to be talking to him because I had developed a crush by then. (I don’t just get a crush on whatever random guy the voices force me to get a crush on. It has to be somebody who I would have found attractive anyway. It isn’t that easy to force somebody to become attracted to somebody that they find very unattractive.)

Well, a few other things happened, but I hesitate to talk about them because it’s kind of controversial and I can’t really explain it or understand it. I still tell myself that he was a ‘puppet’ being forced to get ideas to do things and say things. In fact, a few times, I saw him say unexpected, random things out of nowhere, things that seemed strange and out of context, and I recognized the ‘puppet’ phenomenon where you think you’re making a joke, but it has a hidden meaning which is understood by the ‘targeted individual’ who hears it. I have been forced to do that many, many times – in all of my writings, there are hidden phrases and ideas which are meaningful, insulting, harassing, privacy-invading, etc to some particular reader.

During this time period, I was reading a blog – fskrealityguide – and he started talking about ‘the seduction community’ and a book called ‘Secrets Of The Game’ (if I recall correctly), ‘alpha males,’ ‘negs,’ ‘kino,’ etc. So I learned a tiny bit of that jargon and I was curious about it. It reminded me of Tom Cruise doing ‘Seduce And Destroy’ in Magnolia.

I had voices asking me how Peter and I met, back at McDonald’s. I wrote (in my private notes, not on a blog) about how I had loved his long hair, how I had noticed him the moment he walked in, and how he had started occasionally touching me, briefly, in gentle ways, and how I had trusted him enough to tell him about my hearing voices.

So… a series of events occurred. I assume it was a preplanned ‘script.’ Martin and I started making eye contact with each other (it hurts me to look at him now, and I try to avoid it), and he grew his hair a few inches longer, and they were calling my attention to his physical appearance; I wrote long notes about every conversation he and I had, every interaction, and about every detail of his physical appearance, and his behavior, and his personality, his voice, etc.

They asked me about Peter, and they jokingly said, ‘What do we have to do to get it for free?’ implying that I was (or should be) a prostitute. In other words they wanted to know how Peter was getting it for free.

Then, they asked me what I would be willing to ‘pay for.’ The incident that occurred involved my giving him the cash drawer, which was part of the joke – I was going to give the money to him (instead of myself being a prostitute who receives money). It is controversial and I want to emphasize again, I think he might have been a ‘puppet’ who was given the idea to do something, which he might not otherwise have chosen to do. He touched my fingers one day when I handed the drawer to him. I went home and wrote about it, every detail, excited about this ‘crush’… but then, they forced me to do something which I didn’t really want to do – they had me start writing blogs about it, and poetry. That was definitely not normal behavior for me. That’s one of the things that I can’t bear to read, and I cringe when I look at it. I suppose I could take it down, but somehow I feel like I have to leave it where it is.

I started to feel like something inevitable and important was happening, and that I had no control over it. I became very anxious and felt like I had to do something, I had to take some kind of action.

There was a ‘last straw’ incident which triggered me to do something. But before it happened, I had another bout of crying, and talking to myself. I was crying because I didn’t want to get Martin involved in my life – I was terrified that if he connected with me in any way at all, he would be in physical danger, because I was being attacked, and he would start getting attacked too, if we talked to each other. I had ‘gotten used to it,’ and I knew I could endure it, as I had been surviving the attacks for several years. But it is terrifying to watch somebody else going through the same thing you yourself survived. He is younger than I am and I wouldn’t know if he was going to be okay, and he wouldn’t have had all the experiences and knowledge that I had acquired over years and years of attacks. So I worried that they would ruin his life, and force him to commit suicide or homicide or something awful. I didn’t want him to become a victim like I was. I didn’t want his life to be ruined. So I cried and cried on a day when I was in a depressed mood, and I worried about what would happen if we communicated with each other.

The last straw was a casual joke he made. I had to call him while we were at work because I had a problem with my cash register. After he hung up the phone he joked to Matt that I was talking dirty to him on the phone. Matt then walked over to me and told me that he said that. I didn’t hear the details of the joke, or an exact quote of the words that were said, just the general idea.

This set off a lot of anxiety and I felt like I had to do something. I walked quickly out that night after work, and he was near the desk, and he looked at me and was about to approach, because he wanted to apologize for the joke. I avoided him and I left quickly. I was trying not to look at him, and I was also avoiding the ‘feeling of inevitability’ that was building, a feeling that I was soon going to do something and that I could not stop this from happening.

The next day, though, he had another chance to talk to me. I was leaving, and as I went up to the desk, I approached him and said his name, and I was going to give him a note that I had written. I wrote a note with my name and phone number on it asking him to call me. But I didn’t get to give it to him at first; he started talking, and apologized and was embarrassed about making the joke to Matt. He didn’t want to offend me or make fun of me and he said he was sorry for the joke.

This is where I don’t know what he was experiencing from his point of view. There are two perspectives on this. One perspective says that, from his point of view, he was also in a ‘crush’ towards me at the time; the other perspective says that he might have been a puppet, and there are variations on that theory – for instance, he might have actually blanked out and been physically unconscious during the incident when he touched my hand (which I wouldn’t have even noticed, except that I was currently reading about ‘kino’ in the web pages about seduction – normally I would have said, ‘That was just an accident. Oh well,’ and ignored it.) That was supposedly evidence that he was expressing an interest in me, or attempting to seduce me, and it implies that he was participating and consenting; but the theory says he might not have known what he was doing. The other part of this theory is that they were placing bets, and it was all a big joke amongst a group of people, and they wanted to see who would be able to seduce me first, out of the group. And that several people were competing in this; but the feeling behind it is that I was a joke, somebody they had contempt for, a target of harassment. And I don’t usually interpret it that way – that is the most negative theory that I have, and I actually don’t see it that way. Because when you see it that way, it implies that people are evil and shallow, and everything that I know about Martin, from the few conversations we had, and from the little bit of his writings that I’ve read, say that he is not evil, and not shallow, and not just a mindless evil robot who goes around hurting people deliberately and making fun of everybody. So all of my theories will frame him as somebody doing something which might not have really been his idea, but instead, it was an idea given to him from outside, and he didn’t understand it. Or something along those lines.

So, while he apologized to me about having made the joke, I handed him the note with my phone number. And I wanted very much to touch him, but I didn’t, because I didn’t know anything at the time about whether it was okay to touch him, and I am very cautious about that – I always feel like I am violating somebody, or sexually harassing/assaulting them, if I touch them without permission – I am very anxious and phobic about touching people, whether they are male or female, and I don’t know how to do it, or when it’s okay or not.

He was confused about how I was trying to give him a piece of paper while he was talking to me, and he said, ‘what?’ but he took it, and then I went home. I was too embarrassed to really explain what I was doing, and I don’t remember if I actually TOLD him to call me on the phone, or if I just made him read the note to see that I wanted him to call me.

So, this was all during the pleasant and innocent phase when nothing had really gone wrong yet. We had a couple of phone calls. However, there was a problem. I was dealing with a major contamination outbreak, and it was a drug, on my clothing, which made my heart pound for hours, and made me exhausted and miserable. And I had this drug on me while trying to get to know him and talk to him on the phone. We only had a couple of phone calls, like three or four. I remember I had asked him to call me once, and he did, and I was so irritable and so uncomfortable that I couldn’t talk to him, and it was terrible, and awkward. If you know somebody really well, and you’re familiar with that person, and you’re used to each other, it’s okay to have a bad mood that ruins one of your phone calls. But if it’s a brand new friendship/relationship with somebody who hasn’t gotten used to you, then one single ‘bad mood’ incident will make it seem like you’re a miserable, grouchy person ALL THE TIME, and that will be their first impression of you.

We did have one phone call that I enjoyed, where I asked him to tell me more about himself and his life, and he told me a little bit about his family and where he grew up and things he had done. I mostly listened to him (I do all of my talking in writing, but not out loud – in person, I don’t really talk a lot).

I had been socially isolated for a long time. I had been living in State College since 1997, but had not kept any friends except my ex-boyfriend Eric, and then Peter. I had a couple housemates from a few years ago, but I wasn’t keeping in touch with them. So all of my socializing was on the internet, in blogs, chatrooms, forums, social networking sites, etc. I had not been with ‘real people’ in a long time. So I was happy and delighted to be talking on the phone – or listening, actually – to a ‘real person’ telling me things I hadn’t heard before. I had been isolated partly because of chronic illnesses, and partly because of hearing voices and having mental phenomena and harassment and cyberstalking that I couldn’t talk about to anyone. And it’s also partly because I never really feel comfortable with people – I always feel like an outcast, or an outsider, or a weirdo, somebody who doesn’t fit in, and I often feel bored, or like I’m not interested in what they’re doing or talking about.

I told Martin about hearing voices. I explained it in a few emails and I told him what they were saying. I didn’t usually tell people about this.

So that was how it started to become a ‘big deal.’ They got me writing poetry and they were trying to convince me that Martin and I were going to marry each other. Meanwhile, he went home for the summer. I hugged him goodbye, as I have already mentioned in a previous blog. We emailed a couple of times – or, what I mean is, I received a small number of emails from him, before things really went wrong. I continued battling with my drug contamination, and the drugs intensified my feelings and distorted my thoughts, and they made me more vulnerable to being manipulated and forced to do strange things and believe strange things.

Martin stopped responding to my emails, and stopped returning my phone calls, quite early on. I already described above how there was one email in the beginning where I clearly remember feeling like I had been drugged and was being given word-for-word dictation of things I was being forced to tell him.

Then, I started getting bombarded with voices, and interrogations, and ‘new people’ who I hadn’t heard before, new voices, new personas, asking me questions and pushing the ‘you two are going to marry each other’ idea. I actually LIKED a lot of the new voices – they were interesting and funny and they called my attention to new music and songs that I liked a lot, for instance, Emmy Rossum, who I had never heard before. And they urged me to do adventurous things that I hadn’t been doing in years, like going on spontaneous car trips to nowhere in particular, on sunny days, when I could enjoy traveling and driving and exploring for the fun of it.

As a ‘targeted individual’ who has been interacting with ‘voices’ for several years now, I know that it’s much easier to urge somebody to do things that they already almost agree with, instead of forcing them to do things that are unnatural and out of character for them. So, these new people asked me questions about hair and grooming, because I was already doing unusual things, as I was growing my hair very long, and not shaving, and not plucking my eyebrows or wearing makeup. They got me to write long notes about my philosophy of long hair, about what it means to me, and about hair in general, since this was a favorite topic that I was very interested in. They encouraged me to go a couple steps further with my unconventional grooming behaviors, which led to some changes in how I trimmed my hair’s split ends – I stopped trimming altogether, which finally allowed the hair to grow the last little bit of length it’s reached now – and I started the ‘no shampoo’ experiment, which is still continuing, and is no longer an experiment, but a way of life. That was also whenever I stopped bleaching my mustache, and stopped wearing any deodorant at all – I have gone through phases of sometimes wearing deodorant, sometimes not, and sometimes bleaching the mustache or not.

(The style I have now is called ‘Greasy Strings.’ The title speaks for itself. My hair is gradually twisting into small ropes of hair stuck together with grease that has the texture of chewing gum (in cold weather), but isn’t quite that sticky whenever it’s warm outside. They are starting to look like dreadlocks. I no longer make any attempt to comb them. I only sometimes pick apart the strings with my fingers whenever I notice loops, lumps, or shapes that bother me. Surprisingly, my scalp doesn’t itch, and my head doesn’t FEEL greasy or uncomfortable at all. My scalp feels soft and dry like it normally did back when I was washing my hair. It feels normal. I don’t constantly feel an intense urge to go wash it, or anything – it feels like nothing is wrong. It really is becoming a lot like dreadlocks. ‘They’ encourage me to wear my hair down, instead of tying it up in a bun; the voices say ‘We’re not gonna laugh at greasy strings.’ They don’t want me to be embarrassed and afraid to show the world what my hair looks like.)

So, that was all the result of interacting with the ‘new people’ who were talking to me.

Meanwhile, I kept having incidents of falling asleep and waking up with some idea in my head that I had to email Martin about. But he stopped answering, and also stopped returning my phone calls.

I also started getting strange beliefs, theories, attempts to explain what was happening. For instance, one theory says that Martin thinks he’s talking on the telephone to me, but I keep hanging up on him. Meanwhile, on my end, I’m talking to his voice in my head, instead of the telephone. So I claim that we’ve only talked on the phone three or four times, but Martin believes we’ve talked on the phone dozens or hundreds of times, and I say strange things on the phone to him and talk in a weird voice, and hang up on him.

Another interpretation is that this is really happening, except the phone calls occur while I’m sleeping, and I’m hypnotized, and I don’t remember talking to him.

That is actually plausible in a way, because it happened to me once before. When I was in college, I was sleeping in a room during orientation, with a girl who I had just met and I don’t think I ever saw her again. She was in there with several friends while I was sleeping. I used to talk in my sleep all the time, every night. I talked in my sleep A LOT. My roommates always noticed it and joked with me about it, and told me what I had been saying, or how I was screaming or whimpering or crying about something while I slept. So I was doing that during orientation while this girl was in the room with her friends. And she started talking to me while I was sleeping and hypnotized. I vaguely remember the conversation we were having, because I woke up in the middle of it. They were laughing at me. I know, it IS funny to talk to a sleeping, hypnotized person, but I didn’t like being the butt of the joke. I vaguely remember saying: No, I don’t play basketball, and I’ve never been outside the United States. And they were laughing. That’s when I woke up. So, I remember it’s possible to talk in your sleep to somebody else who is awake. That is one of the strange theories I have about what is happening and what Martin experiences, from his point of view. I don’t really believe it, but the strange theories do go through my mind sometimes.

Those weird theories are an attempt to explain what HE experiences and why he does what he does. It tries to explain why he distrusts me so much that he cannot possibly speak to me or email me at all, why we absolutely cannot be friends, not even just ‘facebook friends’. I found out that he was on facebook, but I had never used facebook before, so I started an account, and I requested for him to be friends with me. The request just sat there for months with no response. It didn’t get accepted or rejected. Then, ‘they’ told me to google search for his email address – which wasn’t MY idea – and I found his blogs and read them. It triggered an incident which I called ‘temporary insanity,’ and I blogged about how he must be ignoring me because, basically, he’s a busy guy with better things to do, with all his friends and his activities and his normal life, while I’m just some lonely weirdo stalker clinging to him and trying to get his attention. After I wrote that blog, the facebook friend request suddenly got rejected, after sitting there ‘undecided’ for months and months. I still don’t understand why it would be such a big deal to just be a casual acquaintance on facebook.

He came back a few times during the summer to work, which I hadn’t expected, and when we saw each other, we made eye contact a few times, and I remember one incident where it looked as though he had tears in his eyes, and was sad, or sorry, or hurt, but I was unable to speak. I was unable to talk, and could not ask him what was going on, and I could not ask him why he wasn’t answering my emails, and I knew that my emails were being forced, and I was starting to become terrified that he would accuse me of harassment. I had already been through this before: several past incidents of being forced to send emails and make phone calls to a guy who doesn’t answer, only to eventually get a call to the police, and a trip to the mental hospital, and a court conviction of harassment. I could not control the impulses to send him another email, when those urges happened.

So when I saw him in person, I was terrified, and I was very badly hurt, and I avoided him, and I wanted to do anything I could to NOT harass him or make him uncomfortable in any way. I couldn’t tell if he understood that I was being forced to write him emails; I didn’t know if he would BELIEVE me if I told him I was being forced to do it. This is a taboo subject. If you go to a court of law and you tell the judge and jury ‘I wrote these emails because the voices forced me to do it,’ then the best thing you can hope for is ‘Innocent by reason of insanity.’ And that is insulting to me, because I decided years ago that I am not insane. In fact, I never felt saner in my life. Now that I KNOW about electronic mind control, I can explain why I have ‘insane’ urges and thoughts and feelings that are not my own. My own real personality is usually much healthier than the fake personalities they force me to have.

All these months, we have not been speaking to each other. Eventually I mostly stopped emailing him, although there were occasional incidents. I started trying to meet other guys, by going to a dating website. However, this caused problems, because ‘they’ were ABSOLUTELY DETERMINED that Martin and I were going to marry each other, and if I met any other guys, ‘they’ (the voices/attackers/hackers) would control which emails I received, and which emails I did not receive, and they would force particular people to speak to me, or not speak to me, and the goal was to make sure that I didn’t meet anybody as attractive or interesting to me as Martin was, and that I would not feel much of a ‘crush’ on anybody, but would instead be surrounded by men who I found boring and unattractive. That seems to be the situation that I am in right now. It is very difficult to disconnect from him and actively go out and seek somebody else, somebody who I will really be attracted to.

There is much more detail to the story, such as the specific words of the emails we sent to each other, and the specific things we have said in conversations, and on the phone, and every incident that has happened between us. This is just the abridged version of the story, the general idea.

As a puppet, always forced to act out fake personalities, to say fake things that they make me say, to think and feel and believe whatever they tell me to believe, I still need to have my own perspective, my own point of view about all of this. And I have written before about the one thing that I would want him to know: that I am sorry for not being able to fight back against the people who control me. That if I said or did things that violated his privacy, or whatever I did that made him uncomfortable, I apologize for not being able to fight against the urges and things they forced me to do and say. And also, I am still planning to acquire, or build, an effective shield, although it will be several years in the future. When I do, I will be able to speak from my own personality instead of the fake personas. And if he ever needed that, if he himself ever needed a shield, a place where he could be himself, if he himself was targeted and harassed and controlled, I would offer to help him in the future whenever I eventually had this shield, or whatever it would be if not a shield. Whatever methods and countermeasures would actually work. I don’t have anything that would be useful to him right now.

So, as I said, I am quietly waiting until he leaves for the summer, and I do not know where he will go or what he will do, and I don’t know for sure if he graduated this year or not. It’s painful, that he will leave and we won’t understand what happened, or rather, *I* won’t understand. And he will do whatever he needs to do to take care of himself.

It is such a waste that ‘they’ ruined something which could have, at least, been a friendship. Now, it’s not even a friendship. It’s two people who don’t speak to each other at all.

I wish him the best, whatever he does and wherever he goes, and if he decides in the future to speak to me again, I accept it, and I will answer whatever questions he wants to ask, if any. I will be happy and grateful to hear whatever he has to say.

schaum’s outlines.

May 10, 2009

that’s the name of the book series that i love.

where will i live?

May 10, 2009

there is a feeling of doom and inevitability. it has to do with my house and where i am going to live.

i guess it won’t necessarily be as much of a big deal as i’m feeling right now. if i move in with somebody, i can move out later on – it doesn’t mean i’m stuck there forever.

but, big changes can happen which are hard to get out of, once you get in. i moved to state college just because i needed somewhere to go after i dropped out of shepherd college, and back then my brother john lived here, since he briefly went to penn state. so i lived with john. i just ‘ended up’ staying here, not because i necessarily wanted to be here. but i decided to quit moving around, to quit disrupting my life and my relationships.

something has happened. i was talking to a bunch of different people in email and a couple people on the phone. the actual ‘dates’ that have occurred are really just one, where i went to the coffee shop with gary, who i met online. he was at adultfriendfinder. i stopped using that site because i found out a couple things: 1. it requires men (but not women) to use their credit cards to do things as simple as opening an email from somebody, and i tested this by creating a fake guy profile to see it from the guy’s point of view. 2. it doesn’t feel like a ‘relationship’ site, which is what i was trying to use it for, but instead, it’s a porn site, and guys are just trying to find people for sex, and find videos to watch, etc.

that doesn’t count the ‘date’ that i went on with the guy who i randomly met at barnes and noble – a puppet – who approached me and disturbed me while i was reading a … damn, what are those books called? i loved them but i haven’t picked one up in a while. they’re like the cliff notes. school books, except very slimmed down to the most basic essential stuff. i think the book covers are usually a red color, but i’m not sure. i loved them and i wanted to get all of them. it’s some foreign guy’s last name. something german-sounding.

anyway, we exchanged phone numbers and later on we walked around at the boalsburg military museum, which is where i took the flickr photo of the guy standing in front of the tank. (that wasn’t the guy i was with, that was just a random person standing there.) i haven’t talked to him in a while.

i said he was a puppet, because he approached me, a total stranger, and interrupted me while i was reading a book about ‘basic electricity’ or something like that. basic guide to electrical engineering or something. i was reading it for the purpose of understanding how the psychotronic attacks are done: i wanted to get a general background on all the technical subjects, a variety of different things, even if they weren’t directly relevant. it was very inconvenient to be interrupted by a total stranger asking me about what book i was reading, and why i was reading it, when i wanted to learn about psychotronic phenomena in an indirect, general way. so i assumed he was a puppet, being forced to get the idea that he must go talk to me.

well, as i said, something has happened. i was juggling a dozen different people in emails. many of them came from the plentyoffish dating website (which is where i went after leaving adultfriendfinder, because it’s free.) and also, phone calls. but i know something from reading diana leafe christian about starting communities, and it’s relevant to relationships too: if you just put up an ad that isn’t specific enough, you are going to be overwhelmed by lots of results that aren’t what you want.

all of the people responding to my profile were not really what i was looking for, becuase i hadn’t had the chance to be very specific about exactly what i wanted or what i was trying to accomplish. but i was quickly overwhelmed by the numbers of people responding, and i didn’t even get the chance to follow my original plan, which was that *I* would go looking for *THEM*, and not wait around passively for guys to contact me! i wanted to go search for THEM. i have gotten annoyed enough by all the irrelevant responses that i almost feel like saying: anybody who contacts me first is, by definition, NOT ELIGIBLE. i’m tempted to say that, but that’s not really true either. it’s just an expression of annoyance. that same feeling of annoyance says: ALL guys on dating websites are looking for NOTHING BUT SEX. again, this is not really true, and guys want real relationships and real friendships. but, because i wasn’t able to express what i was looking for, clearly and specifically, all of the people contacting me were clueless.

(i’m afraid to say things like that, because ‘the voices’ will remember it forever, and they will keep bringing it up as an official rule, when it isn’t. then, ten years from now, they’ll say, ‘but YOU said that anybody who contacts you first is ineligible! and i ruined my life obeying that rule and it’s all your fault!’ etc. i get this kind of thing from the voices all the time. it is true what author warren farrell said, when he talked about how men have to be the aggressive one in asking women out on dates, because if they don’t, nothing will ever happen, and women won’t ask them. it’s definitely true if you make a fake guy’s profile on adultfriendfinder. i didn’t get a single email from a woman, not one, in all the months i had that profile up.)

it is the end goal that’s different. guys are looking for friendship and relationships, but sex is the end goal. sex is the one final thing that happens after all this other (irrelevant, boring) stuff happens first. after all the talking and communicating (secondary, unimportant activities) there will eventually be sex (the end).

from my point of view, it is very different. sex is the EASIEST thing i can possibly find. if i chose to do it, i could walk out into town right this instant, and find a willing ‘sperm donor’ within a few minutes, merely because i am female and human. i could be fat, i could be hideously ugly, i could be deformed, but just by being female, i could find SOMEONE willing to have sex with me *once*. that’s assuming i didn’t ask them to stay with me a long time and have a relationship.

i myself am not just focused on getting ‘communication and friendship’ as highest priority goals, either. i would not have gone to a dating website to find that. not necessarily. instead, i must find someone who will raise children with me. this is the difficult goal that is enough to make me go looking actively for people.

however, even though i put ‘looking for marriage’ on my profile, i got guys who, once again, seemed clueless about what i was really saying: decades and decades of slavery, going to work every day to bring home money for the mother and children, since i will be staying home to breastfeed, and i WON’T be going back to work after only a couple months, but instead, i intend to breastfeed until the children are quite a bit older – extended breastfeeding – which means i will NEVER be going back to work for a very very long time, unless i am doing a job that earns money from home. therefore, the husband will be the sole economic provider, and if he hates his job, it sucks to be him. they are clueless about this. they can’t imagine how it feels to be a job slave for decades, doing something you hate, working for assholes and doing what they tell you, to pay for a family. i knew about it because dad hated his job. he didn’t hate the job itself, but he hated the hospital and the way it was run and the people he worked for. so again, the people contacting me were just thinking ‘sex! sex! sex!’ instead of ‘decades of slavery working at a job i hate so i can feed my wife and children!’

so there are very important things that need to be resolved, questions like, do you love your job? if not, how do you plan to get a job you enjoy more? what will you do when you *inevitably* get laid off in the *next* economic downturn, which will inevitably happen in a couple years because of inherent corruption in the government and the fiat money system? there is no such thing as a stable job that lasts for decades. not anymore. all jobs are temp work. that’s why i’ve wondered about unconventional family structures, like polyfidelity. it’s financially stronger to have several different people providing money, instead of just one person.

so, as i said above, ‘something has happened.’

it happened in a passive way. i didn’t do this on purpose. i *dropped everybody*. i dropped all of the people talking and calling and emailing. i suddenly stopped calling people back and stopped emailing. a few phone calls still haven’t been returned. i hate to do that, because other people have done that to me, and i know how it feels.

it happened on its own. suddenly, i could not bring myself to call anybody back.

people have started pushing me to do things that i don’t want to do. like ken, from work, who decided on his own that he and i are going to move in together. i talked to him about it, i tried to explain this concept: ‘I want to pack as many people into a house as the space can physically hold. We will be sleeping in bunk beds, which will be side by side so close together that you can’t get out of bed without waking someone else up. All of these people will be paying rent. The result is that each of us only pays $20 in rent each month, and we each only have to work two or three days a month to earn enough money for all of our expenses. No more work, no more hating our jobs. The end.’

Ken doesn’t get it. Ken described HIS image of what he wants to do: You and I will be living together alone. It will be peaceful and quiet. We will find someplace nice.

In other words, he wants to monopolize me, and live with me just like a peaceful, happy marriage. (how did my sentences get back into capitals?) so what if we each have to pay a large amount of rent, since there are only two people. so what if ‘someplace nice’ means ‘someplace expensive.’ so what if i hate my job, and i would like to work as few days per month as physically possible. none of those things fit into ken’s image of what he wants to do. to him it’s a peaceful marriage-like relationship with a ‘monopolized’ woman – he emphasized ‘peace and quiet,’ so i won’t be hosting groups of people like i was planning, for cooking food (this particular fantasy hasn’t been worked out yet, but it was a ‘community cooking’ scenario, where people go to each other’s houses for meals, in a large group).

i am NOT going to be a housemate with only ONE PERSON. i want to divide up my rent payment into the smallest possible pieces, which means i will be overjoyed to live in a house with twenty people in it. if it means i’ll only be working three days per month, that’s great. i want to pack so many people into this house that the government will start to worry about zoning regulations and fire safety codes. (we might have to live outside of town in a more rural house, to avoid the zoning laws.)

so, i stopped returning phone calls and emails, because i had sort of a breakdown, or an anxiety attack. and i’m not sure if it was chemical-induced, or the result of something in the air – there seems to be something in the air at work, something i’m allergic to, the flowers or trees, or the ginkgo biloba trees outside – whenever eric and i took ginkgo biloba pills (and at the same time, we also used st. john’s wort, and also ginseng), he and i had the most violent arguments we have ever had in our lives. in that three-pill combination, one, or all of them together, will cause violent impulsive behavior and angry arguments. that was the first time i ever tried herbal medicine. that was my entry into it. the photograph where i’m sitting on a tree branch giving eric the middle finger – i don’t have it uploaded – we were having a violent argument over nothing, while playing around trying to climb the big tree behind my house and taking pictures. something at work, lately, has been making me irritable and angry, and it’s affecting everybody else, too. everyone has PMS. so it could be because the ginkgo biloba trees in the parking lot are budding. yes, that is the exact same ginkgo in the herbal pills.

it could also have been withdrawal from one of my other drug contaminants.

but i had started to feel like other people were controlling me, pushing me to do things that i didn’t want to do. i was afraid, for one thing, that i would end up in another toxic house. other people do not know how to recognize the symptoms they experience. you can only learn that by having a severe, dangerous, extremely noticeable incident, which thereafter teaches you to notice even the slightest hint of a problem. that is how i learned to recognize symptoms of contamination and environmental illness. from a mold so toxic, i almost died of it. from an herb, ephedra, that can kill you.

so, other people haven’t learned those things. they don’t notice that, if you sleep in a house that has a propane stove, the stove is constantly burning from the pilot light, putting out a tiny amount of propane smoke, which contains a tiny amount of carbon monoxide. it is considered to be less than a dangerous level. but just because the ‘official laws’ say it’s safe, doesn’t mean it is. you have symptoms, but you don’t recognize them. you don’t know why you’re tired all the time. you don’t know why you can’t think clearly when you’re in the kitchen. i know these things, but other people don’t.

ken didn’t know i want to avoid *ALL* fossil fuels. eric’s trailer had a propane stove and an oil heater, and the fumes from both always made me very sick. i won’t allow any fossil fuels at all.

ken even told me he DID have an incident once, with kerosene. he said his kerosene heater was broken, one day, and he was taking a shower that morning and was having trouble breathing, and it started to overwhelm him, and he managed to get out and call his sister (or somebody) on the phone, and they called an ambulance, and he got to the door, and opened it, and collapsed just outside the door, where he was able to breathe again. they said, if he hadn’t done that, he would be dead. the house was full of smoke from the broken kerosene heater.

so it seemed like he would understand. but no, he didn’t. i said i would avoid all fossil fuels, no matter what, and he gave a ‘macho’ response, a tiny bit angry, and said something like, ‘well, don’t you worry about a thing, little lady,’ (and yes, i’m joking, those WEREN’T his exact words) ‘with my mechanical skills, i’ll protect you against broken heaters and toxic fossil fuels, and i’ll make sure our fossil fuel heaters are all properly maintained at all times.’ again, i’m making up words because i don’t remember his exact sentence, but that was the meaning behind it. he said that he was skillful enough to maintain a fossil fuel appliance and prevent it from having any problems, therefore i needn’t be worried at all.

he didn’t understand: a PROPERLY FUNCTIONING fossil fuel appliance emits toxic fumes even when it’s working right. nothing’s wrong with it – it meets the government standards, and has the parts-per-million numbers below a certain threshold – and i refuse to be in the same house with it ANYWAY. this is not negotiable. we protect ourselves against it by refusing to be in the same air space with it.

so i’m being pushed into things by people who don’t understand what i want to accomplish and what i’m trying to avoid.

i dropped everybody.

something will happen. the time will pass. it will be july 31. by then, my belongings will be in storage. i spent this week making a few arrangements – i rented a storage room, and i worked on getting some car paperwork finished – it was many, many months overdue.

i will live somewhere. will i live in my car? will i suddenly move in with somebody, not knowing who it will be? will it be a bait-and-switch? do i expect to move in with one person, only to suddenly decide on another? there is a feeling that time is passing, that this is out of my control, that i dropped everybody who didn’t understand, that something will happen and i feel like i’m not the one deciding what it will be. puppets will speak to me, lots of puppets – puppets offering things. it’s useful to have *somebody* even if they were a puppet who was forced to speak to you. (what bothers me more is: what about the hypothetical people on the dating website who were forcibly *prevented* from talking to me? by not being able to email, or whatever. all of life would be very different if nobody forced people to do things that they didn’t decide on their own.)

‘they’ wonder if i’ll move back with my parents in west virginia. but that house is also toxic. it has pesticides and chemicals and wood stain and other things. and mom uses paxil. so i could get contaminated with paxil by being there.

paxil was part of the columbine high school murders. i don’t know if they also had a stimulant drug, or an anti-anxiety drug, involved in that – it was probably a combination of several drugs, and it might be the stimulants that trigger the most violence – i am thinking of this because my friend told me her son became violent when he was on one of the ADHD drugs, which was a stimulant, and it was something like ritalin, or similar. it might sound funny, but, among other things, he tried to stab her with a pencil. that’s similar to how i felt when eric and i were fighting, when we both experimented with the over-the-counter herbal pills combination of sjw, ginkgo, and ginseng as described above. a sudden impulse to attack someone with whatever sharp object is nearby. like the chimpanzee who might, or might not have been given xanax before he went on his attack spree in the news a few months ago. (what other drugs were involved besides xanax?)

those were over-the-counter herbal pills, by the way. violent arguments over stupid stuff.

moving back to west virginia: peter would be left here and it would hurt him. we’d talk on my cell phone a few times and i would cry. i’d wonder how long i was going to be stuck in wv. he’d be nice about it and tell me i needed to take care of myself, and that *he* wasn’t important. he wouldn’t cry, because he has some kind of deformity of the tear ducts, something that prevents his eyes from producing a lot of tears – i don’t know the name of that disorder. so he can’t really weep. but he might sob without tears. and he would be depressed and alone. he’d call now and then, but it would be hard to find anything to talk about. he doesn’t even have an internet connection, because somebody or something killed his computer, and he refused many times to allow me to fix it. i would have to fix it without his consent, but i’ve been too preoccupied with my disasters to research (again) the information i found, about how to read, and interpret, the blinking lights on the back of the computer, when you unplug different components to test which one has the problem.

i’d have to start all over with a different group of friends and a different workplace.

there’s no point in moving, unless i am absolutely sure that that place is where i want to stay for a very, very long time, which will require careful thought, planning, and research. moving from place to place, again and again, is traumatic and harmful. unless you have chosen a ‘final’ place where you intend to stay for many decades, and then you go there and you do stay there. or unless you intend to be deliberately nomadic, on an adventure, and live in many places, and avoid bonding deeply with anybody, avoid deep connections, knowing ahead of time that you will soon leave and go elsewhere, just traveling around and exploring. it could be enjoyable to do that but i decided on something different. i am going to start a family while i still can. we will travel, and have vacations, and adventures, but we will have one home in one place (or maybe two homes and stay at each one for part of the year), but it will be stable. you can have a stable base, and then venture out from the base, and return home afterwards.

i don’t plan on leaving state college yet. one ‘base’ might be up here in pennsylvania, and another base in west virginia. it could be my parents’ house, or rather, i could have people living there who were connected with me, but i myself might not live in that particular house. i would rather have a larger ranch-like area where i will keep a herd of grazing animals. i’d like a variety, some horses, cows, goats, and unusual things like llamas, or if i can get them, buffalo. i don’t know the laws about owning buffalo. and you can’t do much in the area where my parents live, because they have rules about that. you can own a few horses, but not much more than that.

i’ve always wanted to fly. i’d like to use a glider. but it might be an ordinary airplane. we could fly whenever we traveled to the other base. sometime in my life, before i die, i’ll get a pilot’s license and fly an airplane. or else my community will make our own little informal gliders, and have small-scale recreational flight that doesn’t go very high off the ground, and we’ll just fool around in a big field someplace and make our own inventions. there’s nothing stopping people from privately doing that on their own. they don’t need money, they don’t need government permission, they don’t need to borrow millions of dollars, they don’t need to be profitable. they just need some primitive materials like the wright brothers were using. and don’t go very high off the ground. just stay close to the ground and don’t do anything dangerous. you can build whatever gliders you want. just for the fun of it.

so… where will i live three months from now, at the end of july?

it has to be healthier than the place i live in now – wherever it is. it won’t necessarily be my final home, just a temporary place. no fossil fuels, no mold, no pesticides, no farmers’ fields next door where they spray pesticides and herbicides and liquid manure and chemical fertilizers. i want to be in a rural place, but not next door to that type of farm. i’d like to get away from the poisonous gypsy moth spraying, and the poisonous weed killer spraying that the township does along the roadside. avoiding poisons is first priority, because i can’t get ANY goals accomplished when i spend half the year deathly sick, as i have the past few years. every goal i’ve tried to accomplish gets abandoned somewhere in mid-september, when it gets cold and i close the windows, and the mold fumes destroy my life. it’s happened for quite a few years now, total loss of functioning for about half the year. maybe even more than half. it feels like more than half the year, windows closed, toxic fumes, can’t function… all my goals abandoned. year after year after year, while i slowly lose all chance of having children.

it was the loss of children that made this suddenly urgent. i decided that i would not let this chance go, that i would not die without children. i’m 34 years old. i’ve noticed my body is changing. my hair started thinning at age 30 – a lot of it fell out, and it was very noticeable. i have less vaginal lubrication than i used to – there is still some, but not as much as before. i don’t think i’ve reached the ‘perimenopause’ stage, but i’m definitely in the mid-thirties changes, whatever the name for that is. i don’t expect to get fat, as my mother is still thin at her age, and my body resembles hers, and she had two children, and she breastfed us. but i can tell: something is changing.

i didn’t know that i would get chemical sensitivity and environmental illness, and that it would waste many years of my life. i didn’t know that mind control was real, and that i would become aware of being a slave, constantly watched and influenced by some people or a system, so that i don’t know which thoughts and feelings are my own. there is bitterness instead of happiness. a grim feeling, resignation to fighting battles i didn’t want to fight. but also, i know what’s causing my illness – mostly. knowing what causes it, i can avoid it. it’s better than not knowing anything.

there was also the realization, if other people can have children, so can i. i’m not perfect. i won’t be a perfect mother. reading about adoption, i can say: even THE GOVERNMENT doesn’t mind giving away children to imperfect parents! it’s funny, a government organization, the adoption services, they ask you some questions, but they don’t expect perfection. they just want a basic minimum of criteria that you have to meet. so in that way, even the government approves of imperfect parents.

the voices talked to me about it, some time ago last year, and they agreed that i ‘deserved’ to have children. i had also been reading the … what’s it called? the author, the website about … nonviolent communication. there is no such thing as ‘deserve.’ i liked that idea. it’s complicated and i won’t get into it right now. there’s no such thing as ‘deserve,’ but there are such things as consequences, and there are such things as rules and laws. but in a spiritual sense, everybody ‘deserves’ to be happy and live a good life, a fulfilling life. i didn’t feel safe having children whenever i was a mind control slave, and getting sick every year, and not being able to keep a job – i was afraid i’d marry an abusive husband, then become unable to get away from him. and having several children to care for at the same time.

i was thinking of something; a series of thoughts – there are only three months, maybe less than that, when i feel comfortably warm. june, july, and august. nine months out of the year, i am uncomfortably cold. they wondered about sweat, and the way that i smell, because that has been an ongoing theme of questions over the past year, having to do with grooming rules and sexuality and naturalness. that was irrelevant.

anyway it’s relevant to keeping windows closed, and the house air being moldy and toxic, and having chronic fatigue and depression, and being incapacitated and unable to achieve goals. my life is a huge amount of wasted time, due to chronic illness.

the grooming rules are very important to me; however, i didn’t realize it, i wasn’t consciously focused on it, until last year when the voices began questioning me about my unusual grooming practices. they made me aware that yes, this is something i care a lot about, and i want it to be part of my family and my community. they called my attention to looking at young children, last year when a lot of this began. i had avoided looking at everybody; and i also had my mercury-silver dental filling back then, and probably felt differently than i do now. and i was using more drugs. but, they had me notice, and look at, young girls and boys. people walking on the streets, people walking around in the store where i work. i am obsessed with hair. i also notice clothing somewhat, but not as much as i notice hair.

i react very strongly to the sight of young boys with long hair. i was uncomfortable about this at first, last year when they started ‘nudging’ or ‘urging’ me to notice people. it felt like pedophilia. however, if you become a parent, you will spend years in a house with young children, touching them, breastfeeding them, changing diapers. it is constant closeness and physical touch. and i have some anxiety about touching and being touched, about what is appropriate, and everything goes into the ‘inappropriate/pedophilia’ category too easily. part of this process, over the past year, has been to let me learn that it isn’t pedophilia, merely to have intense reactions to the beauty of young children. i respond very intensely to young boys with long hair, and i call them ‘beautiful angels.’ and it seems like i’m not supposed to feel that way. and it hurts to see all the other boys with their hair chopped short, because for whatever reason, i respond very differently to that. it is a constant frustration. i wasn’t consciously aware of it until ‘they’ called my attention to all of these phenomena.

my ‘angels’ will have long hair, and nobody will stop me from doing that. i’m not planning to send them to a public school. there won’t be any conflicts with the school over how short a boy’s hair is supposed to be. i’ve seen occasional news articles where this happens.

‘pedophilia’ is in the gray area of normal parenting: all of those things are very close together. it is inevitable that when you raise children, you will kiss them, breastfeed them, hold them, touch them, including their genitals, you’ll be bathing them and cleaning them and putting clothes on them. you’ll see them go to the bathroom. you’ll see them naked. everything that feels like a social taboo, you have to do over and over again, every day.

this is a puritan prudish society, in the usa, where people freak out about seeing a woman breastfeeding her child. the perversion of freaking out about something which is healthy and necessary and normal – the prudishness is itself the perversion. not the breastfeeding.

so, everything that feels forbidden, everything that makes me feel like a pedophile, i will have to do every day, and get used to it.

i have a feeling that when it starts to happen, i will know exactly what is or isn’t normal and healthy. i’ll know it instinctively. i don’t mean that i’ll be perfectly skillful or that i won’t make a single mistake. i just mean in general, a lot of these things that seem creepy or pedophilic right now will clear up and they won’t be a problem for me.

the amazement of watching a child grow up. it’s not like owning a dog or a cat. you can watch the dogs and cats get bigger, and they learn some things, and you might house-train them and watch their progress, and you bond with them and love them. you can teach a dog to sit, or lie down, or roll over, or bark. you can train them to do outdoor work, or to help a disabled person. but they never talk back to you. you can observe their behaviors, and yes, they do have emotions and personalities.

but with human children, they will talk back to you! an infant child is a tiny animal that looks like a human. it has eyes that look at you, and it has tiny hands and feet. but it doesn’t say anything. after a while, it will start to say words that you can understand. this will be hilariously funny when it happens. it’s like your dog or cat starts talking to you.

and then, they start thinking and feeling. and they do what you tell them to do, and believe what you tell them to believe… until a little while later, they start to disagree with you. and over time, they disagree about more and more things. they’ve learned things that you never knew. they agree with some of it, but it’s inevitable that they will become different people who do different things than you did. and you keep these people in the house with you, and teach them to support themselves financially. you teach them a lot of things, and then you let them go. but they haven’t really gone. and they come back to you, asking for help now and then. you never stop being a parent. this person came from you. you watched them all their life. you saw everything that they learned.

…… so i’m not planning to leave state college just yet. but i don’t know where i will live. i am under a lot of stress and i feel like i’m not in control of this, like it’s just happening on its own. in some ways i’m afraid, but not really afraid – it will be okay.

Paranoia: someone’s hacking the hackers

May 6, 2009

i write little notes and imagine that martin reads them. it usually happens when i’m on drugs. and i often worry that he DOES read them, but reads an inaccurate, distorted, corrupted version, with some information changed or missing. he’d be trying to read what’s on my computer, but a malicious third party would ‘hack into the hacking.’ this is one of the paranoid ideas that i get sometimes.

i avoid emailing him. it goes into notes and blogs instead.

today i took a walk by the pond, and was close to some wild growing st. john’s wort. i did feel a mild ‘hit’ off of it, and when i went home, i took a nap, and woke up focused on martin, which is what they usually do when i am on that drug. it’s a ‘broken heart’ feeling of missing someone who i cannot be with. it’s always when i wake up and they’ve put thoughts of him in my mind.

Something used to happen – it’s part of the pattern – during the time when I was trying to email the guy who wasn’t answering, years ago. It was this belief that if only I did one more attention-getting thing, if only I sent one more email, he would finally respond to me. But he never responded, and instead, ‘the hackers’ would ‘respond’ to my emails instead, by doing things to the computer.

I have a similar pattern going on with Martin (yes, I switched to capitalized sentences): if only I tell him how I feel, or write more of my thoughts about him, he will finally speak to me again and we can have a normal relationship of some kind (instead of avoiding each other). That feeling isn’t constant. It happens mostly when I am on drugs and have the ‘broken heart’ feeling, and when they’ve focused my mind on him.

So when I am in that mood, I worry that he isn’t able to read my notes. He reads some distorted version that’s been changed by a malicious third party who won’t let him see how I really feel about him. This is one of those delusional paranoid fantasies, but which is theoretically possible, and it’s not ‘breaking any laws of physics.’ It’s an idea that ‘they’ often put into my head, when I am in this mood. They make it seem like blogging is somehow more reliable – that for some reason, a blog wouldn’t get corrupted by disinformation. In reality, that’s not true: you could hack someone’s version of the internet, whatever they saw from the computer they were using, so that one version of the blog would appear on one server, and another version on some other server, or something like that. (There’s no end to paranoia. When you’re in a paranoid mood, you can see a loophole through everything, no matter what.)

It all implies that he needs to see what I’m writing and he needs to know how I feel about him.

I’ve had a lot of paranoid moods in the past week or so, I’m not sure why.

What I was writing in the note was: I am waiting quietly until this is over. It means, I am enduring this time period, when I don’t know what he’s doing with school, where he will go, when he will go home for the summer, where he will live, whether he has a job someplace – when I say a job, I mean, a job relevant to his college degree – or not yet. I don’t know if ‘they’ will continue to focus my attention on him this summer. I’m not sure when he’s leaving, or how I will feel after he goes home. It’s up to him to decide how he will communicate with me, if at all. I haven’t seen his name on the schedule – every time I’ve glanced at it, it seems jumbled and out of order, and I don’t know which days he’s working, and I won’t know which day is his last day before going home for the summer, or whether he will show up again occasionally like he did last year. So, every day, I will just go home after work, as always.

Last summer, some combination of drugs, mind control, cluelessness, and gall gave me the nerve to request a few minutes with him to talk after work, and I hugged him goodbye for the summer. I haven’t written the whole story in my blog, of how the relationship with him began, and all the things that happened. But, back then, I saw everything very differently, and it didn’t seem so impossible to speak to him. Now it’s impossible. So, not knowing which days he will be there, and which day is his last day, I will just walk out like I always do, and go home.

And I am in a very sad mood today. I don’t always feel this negative and worried.

the dennis nausea problem

May 3, 2009

i visited dennis briefly today. he is going through old stuff – he collects computers and computer parts – and getting rid of some of it. he wanted to get rid of an old laptop, and i had said i wanted one. so he asked $25 for it, and i gave him $40. that was still nowhere near enough, but at least we were settling it in cash.

i haven’t got a chores/projects barter going with him, or rather, not very well. he had asked for a ride to huntingdon because his truck has a transmission problem and he isn’t comfortable going that far, but i said no to that, i didn’t feel comfortable with that particular favor. i had originally said yes, but over the next couple days, i was dreading it more and disagreeing with the idea – he wanted to go to the historical society, or something, for some of his family tree research. i am trying to define what type of favors i will or won’t do, and i decided not to do that one. i expected it would take a long time, it was a long drive, and i feel wrong about encouraging him to work on his family tree project whenever i am more worried about his being unemployed. (if only my mom and dad could hear me now. they have said the same things to me in the past, nagging me about getting a job, and if i mentioned to them that i had spent a single second on any activity other than job-hunting, they’d say ‘job hunting should be your full-time job.’ and now, here i am telling that to someone else.)

well, when i visited dennis, i made a strict rule with him that i would NOT go inside the kerosene-smelling trailer. he is tolerating that rule, and i apologized many times about it, but i don’t want to smell like kerosene and get sick.

so we stayed outside, and he showed me some things – he gave me the computer, i paid him, and he showed me his family tree chart and also a bow (i had expressed an interest in eventually bow-hunting, but it is the lowest possible priority right now, and i’m not actually doing it) which was so big, i couldn’t pull the string all the way back. i forget what the string is called. it was my slightly injured right shoulder, from the skiing accident in college. the shoulder would not let me try any harder to pull the bowstring.

so, i hugged dennis twice – i asked him if it was okay for me to hug him as a friend, and he said that hugs are always welcome, and he doesn’t get many of them. i mean it when i say that i think people ought to at least get a hug, even if you aren’t having a sexual relationship with them.

but a couple things were still happening. even though we were standing outside, away from the kerosene, i still got sick from some things. first, he has a tooth infection or something that he told me about a while ago. i could smell it when he was talking, and it smelled like death, almost like vomit or roadkill. i smelled like that the other day because i had a stomach virus (or an unknown problem that made me very sick all day long) and i was lying in bed, miserable, for hours, drooling saliva. it was that disgusting vomit smell of dried saliva. so i almost gagged while he was talking to me because i could smell that.

i think his mouth infection is caused by chewing tobacco. he was chewing at the time while he was talking to me. and it wasn’t just the vomit-saliva-roadkill-tooth infection smell, it was also probably the chewing tobacco itself, in his breath, nauseating me. tobacco and nicotine will cause vomiting, especially at high doses, and if you’re not used to it. so the vapor of his breath carried enough nicotine and tobacco (whatever other drugs/chemicals are in tobacco) to sicken me.

chewing tobacco is processed in a way that produces nitrosamines. however, they say that the swedish chewing tobacco, called ‘snus,’ is processed differently and doesn’t have the nitrosamines. nitrosamines are the chemicals that supposedly cause cancer.

so i was nauseated while listening to him. and also, after hugging him twice (in a non-sexual way), i feel something going through my clothing, mostly around the shoulders, where i was in direct contact with him. i think it might be nicotine which is on his clothing. i don’t know if that is from the sweat, and the nicotine is going out through the skin into his clothing? or if it’s just from handling containers of tobacco and the tobacco itself. he has this substance on him which is causing a problem when i touch him. i can feel the tickly sensation of a drug going through my skin, on the shoulders where he touched me during the hug. i recognize that sensation now after two years of living in a drug-contaminated apartment.

this is a major problem. i believe in hugging people and giving them a basic level of human contact. i don’t believe people should be ‘untouchable.’ i want to remain dennis’s friend, and learn what kind of boundaries we should have with each other, what level of physical contact and what level of emotional connection we will have. but i really am getting sick and getting contaminated from dennis’s and other people’s drugs. that seems very unfair.

i don’t know how to explain it in a way that dennis would find believable. here is what i require: go to goodwill, buy all-new clothing (get the cheapest stuff – sometimes you can get stuff for $0.25), take a shower, put on the goodwill clothes, making sure that they do not contact any household surfaces – they must stay inside the plastic bag at all times until you put them on, and THEN hug me. and the shower – he might have to get all new towels and washcloths, too. this is how my life is, in a contaminated house – i know ALL ABOUT IT. you have to buy new towels, new clothes, new washcloths, new socks – everything. i’ve experienced all of that. i’ve thrown in the garbage huge amounts of clothing. this is a major disaster, and he doesn’t even know, or believe, that he is contaminated with something.

i don’t know what to do about this. i will have to put on ‘hazard uniforms’ of some kind when i visit him, some clothing that it won’t matter if it gets contaminated.