flagrant

"you'll meet up with me at tokyo's narita," i had written in an e-mail to motherfigure. our annual insanity tour is just a few days away. this year the vacation will challenge my tour guiding skills much further afield. even though there is no chance we will find ourselves off the beaten path by merely visiting thailand, motherfigure has ignited the panic and is now dropping her brain more than usual. our previous trip to costa rica was not smooth, but i intend for this one to be, AND have it serve as an education.

explain how i assembled, labeled, and detailed the trip itinerary for her, but minutes after she received the syllabus, she automatically questions the sequence? that's right. she could not be bothered to look it over and be self sufficient. otherwise, what might she think the bangkok marriott resort and spa is? a holistic half-day retreat? did she think to evaluate and then balance her chakras on day one that fast?

"which hotel do we stay at upon arrival?"

hello?!

it irks me how, essentially, some people haven't a capacity for an image disorder. why, even if it was just me in the line of disdain, would she want to allow herself to look uninformed? it's not just her-- the entire lazy world commands this "i'll just ask someone even though the answer is amid this paperwork" approach. why wouldn't motherfigure flip over the first page to see she had very concise information before posing a question? is this not considered lazy, and... just normal? even though she was just striking up a conversation, didn't she have the wherewithal to first consider her approach and see how lame it made her look? independent travelers cannot present themselves in this way without announcing a weakness or lack of security.


i had to invalidate her question, seeing as how the first night's hotel is listed on the very first page-- listed right under our initial flight information-- after the technicality of the imaginary longitude known as the international dateline. again, for what reason is this necessary separation of calendar days, for some, a phenomenon?

"we both depart from the usa late night on sunday and then arrive at the bangkok airport early on tuesday- calm down," i could say, but know not to do this. "our sunday and monday nights are included in the airfare." it's true i need to refer to 'our monday morning departure' as 'departing late on sunday night' to avoid a travel catastrophe, but, nah, i had better not joke about a hotel. obviously, but it isn't for some, i only mean that we lose one day en route and are required to endure that night on the airplane. motherfigure is apt to get confused and question, even though the flight is nonstop, what hotel we have arranged between the usa and asia.

another thing driving me nuts: travellers lose one day when crossing the international dateline (westwardly) and motherfigure considers this 'wasting a day.' what may be worse, is listening to the unsophisticated travelers on flights crossing the international dateline eastwardly. on my last trip, uncomplicated people were complaining that they were losing a day on our journey from asia to the usa. not only were these statements completely false, but our departing time from asia was later than our arrival time in the usa on the same day. we 'gained' time.

"untitled" - fish/scuba watercolor, september 2004
cold press illustration for a children's book

DAILY LIFE happened:
- mostly under cloak of darkness
- partially under the cloak of misty marine layer

during the nighttime?
taking the chicken route?

[must disregard]

small, nevertheless, this was a success.

at two o'clock in the morning, the insurance review form was taken out in public and duplicated. a coin operated photocopier in northridge ate my change. a sleepy clerk at the devonshire and reseda boulevard cvs store gave a half-effort kick to the side of the machine before fumbling to call for additional quarters.

at four o'clock in the morning, the forms were finally posted. with a great relief, they were deposited for collection at a box located on a lonely stretch of pacific coast highway.

panic ensued. racing thoughts. might that weathered usps mailbox of malibu 90265 have been abandoned? might, after this insurmountable stress, these forms never see daylight, let alone office desk? might tackling these obstacles have been futile?

[must disregard]

no, of course not.

consider: how this subsequent pseudopanic only counters __________.

dubsynthetica.
duopolist.

e-mail: have you found that inositol tablets or msm has alleviated trichotillomania at all?

not so much. this has helped:

1) ativan (lorazepam)- a benzodiazepine ("anti-anxiety medication")
2) zoloft (sertraline)- ssri antidepressant
3) avoiding processed or packaged foods
4) avoiding food additives (list) and artificial food colorings
4) avoiding high fructose corn syrup and sugary foods

when i took methylsulfonylmethane (msm) tablets, there was an immediate and noticeable growth in eyelashes. this made me try harder to resist the urges of hair pulling.

but...

the problem with taking msm is that after a few weeks, it caused substantial hair loss at the root in companion with that growth it facilitated. the hair falling continued for many agonizing weeks after discontinuing the use of the supplement.

here is a link to an article on quackwatch.com which debunks the marketing claims that msm can cure a myriad of health concerns. i never noticed a benefit from msm supplementation aside from that initial, immediate hair growth. note that i deal with a severe eating disorder, routinely experience vitamin deficiencies, and may have seen faster or cheaper results simply from adhering to a week of a very nutrient rich diet.

what might help:
the plans i would use to thwart trichotillomania now would be: a reduction of anxiety, to drink more water, and also to try supplementing with omega 3 trans fatty acids (available in capsules or by eating fatty fish). perhaps, i will eventually try inositol tablets again, but am rather reluctant. the last time, they followed the same course as the msm-- upon stopping the inositol, the amount of hair shedding was traumatic. this was frightening and served as a catalyst for an increase in anxiety and obsessive compulsive disorder (and therefore, pulling).

when dealing with the urge to itch from allergies, it is almost impossible for the hair smoothing and subsequent trichotillomania to remain at bay. in order to manage an equilibrium (which would help neutralize sensitivity to allergens) my body requires a much better level of hydration.

as for the omega 3 fatty acids, there is a connection between the loss of omega 3s during the production ('breakdown') of corn, and i note many problems with intolerance which point to a problem with corn. perhaps, taking in ample omega 3 fats could counteract those reactions and lessen 'allergy-inspired' hair pulling?

how many calories do you think are ingested during the pre-kleenex state of a bloody nose when you have to tilt your head back and can feel the slight tickle and tang of blood seeping down your throat?

the real question is: does a bloody nose break a water only fast?

if i have my hair dyed to a divine red wine will its maintenance kill me? should every exhaustively boring blog author be required to break up their monotony with a misbehaved entry? when swallowing neurontin tablets will erythematous macules from another maculopapular rash appear on my back? does forgetting how to spell 'gabapentin' reflect a memory-related side effect of that anticonvulsant agent or merely a painfully embarrassing consequence? is a person who is noted to be wrought with hypersensitivity simply doomed to develop stevens johnson syndrome from maculopapular lesions? does drinking fluoridated water out of a champagne flute result in intoxication? is magical thinking a very tentative way to illustrate avoidance without expressing one's wussification? if a pea-sized dab of colgate total toothpaste is placed into my mouth will an allergic reaction excite burning mouth syndrome? could the skin irritation then be explained as a contact allergy caused by legumes?

consider: trichotillomaniacal hair pulling
- per definition of anorexia nervosa, there is no trichophagia here.
consider: the act of trichotillomania as a habitual behavior.
consider: for example, nail biting.
- occasionally.

consider: trichotillomania eyelash pulling performed during times of anxiety?
- yes, but that anxiety is not necessarily recognized until later.

- trichotillomania is (personally) related to obsessive compulsive disorder.
- hair pulling has acted as both obsession and compulsion.

consider: its causes. its cure.
- allergies? food additives? fd&c yellow #5 tartrazine? msg? sulfites?
- bright yellow food colorings definitely increase trichotillomania.
example: lollipops, lemon drops, sour gummy candies, sour apple licorice.
- prepared foods, boxed meals with a "cheesy" bright yellow component.
example: macaroni and cheese, broccoli and cheese rice-a-roni.

consider: is trichotillomania performed out of boredom?
consider: is trichotillomania performed out of perfectionism?
note: "sometimes it all needs to line up."

consider: neurontin gabapentin (gaba analogue)?
- never noticed any therapeutic benefits from neurontin.
- also experienced no weight gain, weight loss, or increased appetite.

consider: zoloft or other ssri medications?
- zoloft noticeably decreased hair pulling.
- also lost a lot of weight while taking zoloft.

consider: benzodiazepines?
- klonopin increased anxiety and hair pulling.
- klonopin also includes yellow fd&c food coloring in its ingredients.

[biggest benefit has been in relating trichotillomania to specific ingredients]

consider: resuscitate or reset serotonin receptors with inositol hexanicotinate?
- avoid excipient ingredients found in the inositol tablets.
- search for pure inositol hexanicotinate capsules labeled as niacin.
- inositol eliminated the finger pulling and tapping nervousness of anxiety.
- upon stopping inositol it caused hair loss.

consider: pulling on those anxious fingers of follicle compulsion.

Dear Motherfigure,

My automatic elite upgrade to World Business Class has just processed. I've flown with Northwest Airlines out of the New Tokyo International Airport at Narita enough to get a good look at their "cattle class" economy service and what I suggest you do is choose the teriyaki beef or beg one of the matrons to find an extra Japanese bento box.

Love,
Your Kid

Dear Motherfigure,

Since I am paying for our annual vacation to hell, you are not allowed one bad word. Dare the day you give me a sour look. I'll pound you right in your ---.

Love,
Your Kid

disability insurance form is done.
damn it all.
did i mention mood swings?
i don't think i did.

consider: what is the definition of mood swing?
consider: what if i have never fully experienced the other side of sad?

after trying every overpriced brand of frou frou food from petco, the loudmouthed cat has finally decided he will only eat one type of 'generic premium' cat chow. since he notoriously returns unfamiliar cat foods to the living room rug, a trip to one of the exasperating crapmarts was endured to stock up on "special kitty" cat food. foil packets of turkey, chicken, and tuna pate were selected for the finicky cat, before finding myself standing in a queue of ten at the check out register.

from the way he insisted on making eye contact while i remained near the back of the line, it seemed obvious that upon meeting with the bastard cashier, this transaction was destined to be unfortunate. though the ridiculous could be predicted from ten minutes and twenty paces, i couldn't sense the exact subset this insanity would define. something... the cashier was apt to gush overtly nice commentary, or possibly flirt, but in that screwed up way only a man proud to manage a cash register could manage. quick, think up the reflective response! consider, and then command the transaction! nah, my mind was stuck in a groove:

""i hate this store. i really hate this store. i am never returning to this store. one should never have to stand in line to spend money. why am i here? how did we get into this mess of the cat only eating generic pet food from wal-mart? oh yes. chuck and i exchanged a dvd received at christmas back in january. while here, we surveyed their pet section. now, why did we investigate pet food if never intending to return? why in the name of god are other shoppers wearing dirty pink sweatpants and flip flops in public? is this a garden? am i hallucinating? perhaps this is not wal-mart, rather, the beach? why don't people care? why do they write off any negative looks with their own thoughts of not caring whether or not they please other people? no one is asking for wal-mart shoppers to dress to impress, par merely calls for an inoffensive ensemble. from now on i will strategically plan to replenish the household somewhere else. the loudmouthed cat is going to learn to eat iams or meow mix like the rest of them. why are the shoppers strolling around while eating mcdonald's food in here instead of grazing in the appropriate food court? where did manners go... mine too... but there are those hunched over a shopping cart and tucking into chicken mcnuggets. consider the open container of barbecue sauce and runny hot mustard. this store isn't that big sweetheart. the feeding pens are located quite near the mcdonald's front counter. why not sneak one portion and eat it on the walk out to your car? why not live without spreading more sloth in here? my nonverbal communication says i am sleek, efficient, and cold enough to refuse superfluous slop in any regard. you are non-verbally communicating the lack of a high school diploma, how your low rent apartment is a mess, the laundry pile has been knocked over this week, and you sniffed your underwear before you put in on. i hate what this store does to me... do you think it's related to the fluorescent lighting? why are my thoughts suddenly so mean? what is that kid doing sitting on the floor only to block access to the check out line? i can control my children without beating them, or bribing and setting them up for future obesity, so why is this slack acceptable? why don't parents have the courage to parent their children anymore? get out of the way... sheesh, she's eight years old! how can an elementary school child weigh more than me?""

manners?
i apologize.
some of my brain and mouth leaked.

me: "why are you choosing to sit on the dirty floor?"
[she hefts herself up]
me: "i didn't say to get up."
[she looked confused and doesn't know whether or not to sit back down]
me: "i asked why you decided in was fine to sit in dirt."
her: "i don't know."

[not acceptable]

me: "oh, yes you do."
her: "i was tired."
me, pointing away from the queue: "go."

[goodbye, go squeal off to mother pig now.]

sarcasm, sloth, general slobbery and meanness-- the atmosphere in that store is proficient in turning on bad behavior. i stood there thinking i was *so mean* internally and externally, but later considered how that enormous child didn't even seem to notice any of it-- the chaos, the dirt and disordered conduct, the rudeness.

when it was my turn at the register, i refused to make eye contact with the cashier who, as was predicted, stood to ruin my day. he scanned the bad-for-the-urinary-tract packets of cat food. he scanned chuck's cheap athletic socks. since everyday is white trash day at this porter ranch wal-mart shopping mecca, i gave him a merchandise credit coupon from a gift return, and he didn't even flinch. when accepting my change, he placed the money firmly in my palm with one hand, not letting up, and then used his other hand to sandwich my forearm, slowly caressing me for two seconds as he drew his hand down the underside of my limb. when he reached my hand, he squeezed it with both hands and said, "thank you."

mm-hmm, since i saw it coming i didn't even react.
it was my fault for choosing "that" store.
what does one do besides say he is welcome?

"welcome home, flagrant. i could care less that you are tired, need to check your gmail and also ban readers from your other blog. get your ass in gear and get that disability insurance review form in the mailbox, or better yet, drive the review papers to the office. only three hours remain before the post office closes- so decide, get set, and go! they are going to cancel your insurance-- who cares that you never use it? what if one day you need a brighter movie star smile and the dental work costs $40,000? what if you have another seizure and someone takes you to a hospital because you cannot struggle enough to stay home? THIS IS IMPORTANT and the form is already late by a week and a half! how dare you try to act normal by committing those acts of lighthearted playfulness on airplanes and in sailboats in the face of an unfinished task!? hurry up, you have to fly to thailand next week. at least five days are required to fret endlessly before you decide to lurch towards a store to renovate your humidity tolerant wardrobe and locate new jungle luggage."

sigh.

i have to become involved, clenched, and flower folded to accurately fill in necessary blanks. since it is friday, the day of hell, dread, and loneliness, it could be too easy to push myself into an under-the-rug state.

i will begin obsessing about traveling to south east asia starting tomorrow. soon after, i will start stressing over finding a place to stay in cambodia, with people who, for the most part, only know me online. this form has to get done. i did fill out a line or two. on paper my life sounds intolerable. the two sides of life which persist sound incompatible and noting the bad isn't a reminder i need. reminding myself by commanding this form, functions to bring up a lot which needs to be ignored.

if the review was not breaking me apart, it would have been finished. the complications kill me, thankfully. the occasional interference counts for a portion of nervous description.

... a friend of mine has taken unpaid personal time off from work on occasion to remain with me on especially bad or suicidal days as it is easier to stay with me at home rather than seeing the situation through to an emergency room (true)... in october 2003 i experienced seizures, slurred speech, and a partial paralysis and have yet to see a physician because i believe i deserve these problems (true)... in february of 2002 i defaulted on a credit card not due to lack of funds, but from the inability in getting the payment envelope to a public mailbox (true)... the agoraphobia is such that i live with painful missing fillings (lie), get by with a twelve year old eyeglass prescription (lie), and have had other people present imaginary conditions to physicians to acquire adequate medicines for me when i have had no capacity to leave my home (true)...


now what i didn't write was:

1) stamp my passport and i could clean you up.

2) the rules of obsessive phobias do not apply when 8000 miles or more away from home.

3) sick as i am, i make more money per year than you and i found a way to do it in under ten days a year.

4) except for five or six annual three week periods of decompensation, i am completely fine!

5) if i was ugly there would be no problem because i could "go and do" alone and unnoticed.

6) if another person accompanies me places, i endure virtually no agoraphobic symptoms.


after pushing the insurance review form aside once again, i specifically used priceline.com to bid on the bangkok marriott resort and spa. i got it for mere tokens-- $41 a night. this phenomenal deal is distracting from any other bad thoughts right now.

form, schmorm!

[departing for england in a few minutes]

two days distracted:
pardon me while i enter another period of decompensation.
when you're gone it was like you were never there.
how much entertainment will magne f's art reception offer?
gone to london, don't yet fret.

it's truly amazing what nine days, united airlines mileage running, getting paid to use professional hair products, changing one's own spark plugs, and a county fair can do-- but i have yet to finish this disability insurance review form.

it's a week late and i have no idea what to write down.

also, do i need to edit this post to clearly state that i did not attend the los angeles county fair? i think i do.

invalid friend should fly with me to england immediately after he finishes his shift at work on wednesday. we would arrive into london on thursday morning, attend the art show that night, and he could fly home alone on friday unless he could stay.

i call.
he says he has monday and tuesday off, not thursday and friday.
i say: switch.
he says it's not possible.

who told him to get a life and then had the audacity to convince him it is important?

next thursday involves attending an art reception in london, but i don't know how to announce that there will no way, no how, ever be an i standing alone. ignore the date, avoid the crowds between here and there, mumble something about dehydration related vision disturbances, and worry hourly about getting to the paul stolper gallery- yet know this shyness only makes me appear aloof.

"come with me," i will suggest. "let's go to britain."

who could i request to accompany me? ordinarily no one, but the phone rings on cue when life is a sitcom. it erased the thought of romancing an anonymous blog reader.

british film director friend's voice on the line asked me to be his wife for a week-- does he know? does he read here? his nervous proposal was countered by a question concerning pricey architectural drafting. queen of distraction. he offered his arm but i was too shy to accept and instead chattered on and confirmed the location of the liverpool street tube station. 'what do you think it means when los angeles smells like french toast?' that looks so ridiculous in print.

well, it did. powdered sugar topping wafted in the air, and delicate pastries warming in a nearby bakery offered the scent of an orange marmalade.

two years, two weeks, and too much blond hair but to get me to eat meat pies, british film director friend only needs to spell out his middle name. yes sir, i like him. a good kid- eats iced ginger bars and such. turns out his in between reeks of geneology that doesn't stack well next to my fairy tale namesake.

rampion.
rapunzel.
rumpelstiltskin.

two out of three, but i dare that turnip to call me a vegetable.

where do people get the clueless impression that someone with anorexia nervosa can indulge in as much calorie free slop as is physically possible to ingest? who gave them an idea that there are free foods? why do people say sentences like, "that's okay. you don't have to eat. you can have water."

WHAT !?

why do they think that just because water is calorie free it is nothing and somehow acceptable? water is something, not nothing, and people like me do not even want anything.

i routinely water fast for seven to ten days and never consume over a gallon of liquid during the course of time. when i end the restricting with a full litre of water, it is an indulgent crime. how blubbery at heart must a person be to read about empty yet picture it as full? what is the definition of appalled x 1000?

someone was referred to this website from a search questioning whether or not jessica simpson has anorexia nervosa. just a second, is that the person who gets paid to boost her fat up out of her clothes for men to see? the one without pallid skin tone who can hold up to an incredible schedule? the female who has to wear underwear to bed under the giggly guise that it's sexy when really we all know otherwise that flopping around would rub herself raw?

let's reconsider severity. i have yet to see a thin person since one newspaper printed image of rwanda in 1992. certainly i have never seen a thin person in public. on television? zilch. fashion magazine models? consistent disappointment. dear doctor, will you lead me to the eating disorder ward and point? they're all vomiting men or overweight housewives, he laughed. please follow my direction and reserve the cherished term for people who choose to sink a nipple into the groove of a rib.

[my pen is broken]
[disability horror]
[paper pushed aside]

someone just contacted me and explained over the phone that he and some friends had been out smoking pot while [unofficially] camping over the weekend [gee thanks for inviting me]. he mentioned something about going out in a boat to [mm-hmm, whatever] shine for deer and other animals in the dark with one of those three million candlepower lights [that's illegal, you know] and spotting what appeared to be a large chain wrapped around a tree. it led out into the marsh near the shore [this is where i started to zone out] and since the guys were all either sloshed or stoned they decided to pull whatever was attached to the chain out of the muck [uh, yeah...?] which brought up a tangle of branches and a human skeleton to the surface of the swamp.

he knows all about the long and dark unmarked road
where my i'm going to skin you alive stalker issue comes from.
was he too excited to think about what he was saying?
preoccupied with grotesque? forgetting the psychology?

no rotten square of carpet? no box?
no wrappings found of any kind?
no nothing.
that person was chained out there alive.

he was a voice on the phone but i just mumbled and nodded along. how does one console when thinking this conversation reinforces facts other people say are only made for television? there are bad souls in the world who chain living people to trees, miles from civilization, so they can endure drawn out deaths from not only starvation but from the hovering and hungry wild animals.

... and i think about how big that person's eyes were after a few weeks out in the woods, how he understood what it is like to know he could never sleep again, and of how guilty i am of being selfish- having not heard the majority of this morning's conversation.

unbelievably disgusted with my locked door habits, i bought an airline ticket and now either board a long haul flight to self improvement or lose a small fortune. why am i again spending money to endure the hell of strangers? last week detailed a lost life but now tomorrow's arrival deposits me two days ahead of safety.

[united airlines, potential plane crash, deep vein thrombosis]

a sunday night boredom decided to exchange hemispheres today.
no problem.
check the weather.
pack a bag.
search for cappadocia pants.

suddenly everything is fine. yesterday while invalid friend was at work, i drove to his house [daylight? driving?], dropped off a few things he will need, and was able to do his laundry in the common area with someone else in the room. this morning it took less than fifteen minutes to decide on all of the flights and hotels for the upcoming vacation with motherfigure--- even finding it in me to forward the itinerary with a statement saying it is all paid and she should just bring spending money. [what? what if she is uncomfortable? she did not appreciate the guest house or hotels i selected in costa rica. why am i taking the responsibility when i could leave it for her to take the fault?] this morning i have to go to the store for a camera battery and arrange for a primetime shuttle to pick me up. [telephone? retail stores? cashiers?]

right now, this second, it is all fine.
should i cancel the flight?

nothing happens. no food. no life. he starts the let's go routine but i am too weak to speak. two hours, three, four pass, and on the fifth when merely an inch from winning by default, he tries for the final time.

"if you put my shoes on for me, i'll go," i replied.

no issue. what a mutt.

"now i am never going to knot my own laces again," i said, and smiled at the tied shoes.

he pays weekly to get insulted, do any required shopping i feel like avoiding, and kneel at my feet. in the palm of my hand he is, and just as i said he would be. never wavering eye contact, i had suggested that people from pre-illness, the watchers, those people who i can no longer appreciate, should get out... but with this one, this moron, i had even repeated myself.

it might not be as bad as it sounds. if he manages to keep his current job for one day longer than two years i said i would find a way to buy him a house. if i ever win the lottery, my parent's bills get paid and the rest is his.

*shrugs*

-

in february my los angeles lease ends and the plan is still to change cities, leaving most of the illnesses behind. it appears possible and has been slightly tested. it's not like i can gain weight, so why do people think i will try to starve? it seems impossible to act afflicted around people who are unfamiliar with eating disorder scripts but those who lived to tell just keep reciting the rules of obsessive compulsive disorder. stop! they agree but have no capacity to make the daily effort. finally confident that i can neither self-destruct nor be a manipulative bitch without help, i now not only know what to do, but when.

it's fall... shoulder season... low airfares... lots of international trips during the next few months... only more confidence... no open calendars for longer than a week at a time to catalyze monstrous depression... god forbid, no corn... just "the good" and all perfectly lined up.

the worst part: continuing to stomp on two people to ensure they do not follow me. how do you do that? how do you say, "i'm leaving and don't want you to move to the same city. i need to take care of myself and don't hate you. honestly." these two people are going to freak out and insist i am only moving to be free to harm myself, and then rearrange their lives to relocate near me. this is about the only part i don't know how to handle.

redesigned cardio exercise program---

pro:
- quality sleep (not longer, just better)
- new body indentations daily
- endorphins: i am happy

con:
- painful and i currently refuse all medicine
- ankle stress fracture issues and shoulder problems
- late day exhaustion (difficult to speak loud)

note: feeling phenomenal cancels out anything bad.

what suggestion ranks at 3:08PM on a friday afternoon
when all that never began comes to the weekend halt
and impending panic attacks are well deserved?

zone out. daydream.
some people inhibit theta
while others encourage it.
3:14PM now.

under the daylight with gluten free sunscreen, i considered beta blockers, drove to the amygdala car wash, and insisted on promoting even more confusion in reference to other people's disregard to personal space. not saying you would be, but if as frugal and washing the car at a do it yourself car wash, would you expect other people to congregate in your individual washing bay as the hose you held spurted soapy water? you might picture how those people gave me THE LOOK when the breeze directed waxy overspray toward them.

after returning home with my one calorie secured, i sat in front of this computer. this was a small start in breaking free from the current depression and agoraphobia, a so-called success, but it truly isn't when considering last november.

later, i dissociated the dim room away while waiting for monday to happen.

after completing five thousand jump rope revolutions and numerous sprinting intervals, i wiped my sweaty face off and walked a new attitude to the 7-11. bottled water-- it's allowed.

since it was 5am, this was a test in not looking perfect in public, and nothing could go wrong. there is no shoplifting alarm to accidentally sound or curb to fall from, and i can snidely recite the quizzical appearance of everyone seen exiting that store from all of the times i have waited in the car while another person retrieved purchases. the situation this morning could not be a problem unless the convenience store had run out of water.

i walked in, passed by a man who was waiting for the cashier at the counter, and reached for the refrigerated water. should i stall since the cashier is only just now walking up to the cash register? nope. not today. who cares. i stood in line.

the customer purchased two bananas and an undisclosed 650 calorie iced cinnamon artery hardener, then somewhat awkwardly lingered, and as i was paying, turned to me and said, "do you know you have perfect breasts?" wait, i have breasts-- oh, i get it. ha ha. the problem was that he was not joking.

that sentence, that second in time, helps sum up why i never leave my home. after all i do to disengage, here stood a man who could still me as a sexual creature.

"yes, why wouldn't i know that," i immediately asked, not notably thrown or appalled, but completely derailing his confidence. the man took longer to answer than it took to retrieve my change. i was leaving i just gave a big smile, nodded, and replied, "uh-huh, so do you."

note: must stop doing that.

i am always ready for the moment. i can successfully detour unwanted interaction, and have it smack people right back in their faces, so why is there a constant battle with fear over the ability to go and do?

you can't stop me. [waves fist] today i am going to be productive and order a spark plug wrench from an online store- now whether or not it gets used is a completely different issue.

this morning, a haughty e-mail response arrived from the powerbar corporation, explaining their exhaustive processes used to ensure sterilization of sports nutrition products. this correspondence did little to ease my mind over the aforementioned indian meal moth concerns. their response in my inbox is a perpetual reminder to be nauseated.

i had requested their opinion as to whether or not a sugar-free chocolate peanut butter variety of protein plus had a lesser chance of becoming infested than any other powerbar protein plus products. based on ingredients, the chemical-filled carb select should rank second to the swarm, leaving ordinary sugared protein plus concoctions with the highest penchant for worms or indian meal moths.

after revealing several threads online regarding 'the powerbar meal moth phenomenon' this appears to be a well known problem. occasionally, these bars are my main intake-- there is a concern if only faced with the regular protein plus powerbar option. when traveling in foreign countries, often very stiff versions of their products (which are merely nearing the expiration date) can be found at a kiosk or on a mule cart. i never mentioned finding a problem with a protein bar, but my comments have been forwarded to corporate communications for further review. this means a clerk will begrudgingly send out numerous free coupons, t-shirt, and a promotional magnet. it was never any intention had this inquiry sounded rude-- i just need facts.



common wormy protein bars can neither be a part of life nor a 'healthy' attempt at thwarting eating disorder. so, down to two food choices. two food choices once, if you want to romance the details, when once there were three items available to choose between the two. technically four, but an overpriced jamba juice enlightenment minus the actual jamba after 10:00pm takes a long drive.


what now? how to proceed with food without the safety of food rituals? food number one is gone, the store to collect number two was closed, my brane wuz fuzzy enough to forgo food number three, and four is a trip. one of the three items allowed is for emergency use only, and that number four, being a pain, only leaves two. skip ahead, last night after it got dark, invalid friend and i drove to nirvana.

three minutes before number four's store had closed, i found myself forced by traffic down the wrong road. the merge insisted steering into a turning lane at the corner of sunset boulevard and vermont. invalid friend began craning his neck. yes, we are at the wrong intersection, i didn't say and instead sarcastically continued trying to thought control the traffic light. chuck opened his mouth. "yeah, it's on hollywood boulevard, not sunset," i interrupted. he had no we were a block or two off from the destination. after questioned as how he could live in a state of constantly being lost, chuck motioned over his shoulder and said he knew exactly where he was because he had remembered tony pierce lives somewhere down the road we just drove by. this is a very impressive statement from invalid friend, as we have not been in the area since spring, and his memory usually involves an eye-crossing system of color-coded pens.

...and the store was open even though we arrived two minutes after thinking it should have closed, everything was made perfectly with rigid dairy omissions, and we all lived fruitlessly ever after.

wednesday was useless.

today a misdelivered fashion magazine told me from now on to go outside and refuse to cover up. the print advertisement was a surprise and urged me to return that make-up artist's calls.

- pick up a phone
- speak into it clearly
note: without sarcasm!
- make a doctor appointment without insulting anyone

[ring ring]
she: "hello? hmo quackery incorporated. how can i direct your call?"
me: "i'm not calling mumbai, am i?"
she: "no. this is the kaiser permanente medical call center."
me: "good, 'cos the phone blipped for a second and, you know, after putting up with me last time, i wouldn't have wanted any of your $10/hour clerk typist jobs to get outsourced."
she: "flagrant?"
me: "no, see this time that was a complement!"
she: "do you have your medical reference number available."
me: "i only have one question."
she: "yeah, but we need to get your medical reference number."
[note: we? we is wrong. this person is sick.]
me: "right right.. but i need to know whether or not any mental health issue, no matter how minor, that is tended to between the overnight hours of 5pm and 8am is automatically referred inpatient or not?"
she: "yes, all after hours mental health concerns are [detained, i swear she said detained] until the psychiatrist on call signs a release the next day."
me: "HO-kay!! that's all i need to hear."
[click]

compromise: i will really call, but i'll do it tomorrow. even if it cost more, i thought it might be easier to see a doctor as a "walk in" patient right as the clinic was closing. there would not be too many other patients or people lingering around- but that doesn't appear to be a good decision.

[undiluted blog]
the problem with the gasoline ending, is that, when one cannot manage the daylight, the car sits without an oil change for a year and spark plugs never get replaced either. running on three out of six cylinders says a lot. the car, which is needed for the final fiery job well done, can probably get from zero to maybe 40 in six gears and 15 seconds.

it's like the most screwed up joke in the world. i can almost buy anything i will ever need but never take delivery. shyness and introversion abounds. more forms down there at long beach bmw, eh? what's my name? they need to know. what does my name matter unless i apply for an automobile loan? the last time my life was signed away at a car dealership, i was such a nervous wreck that the jackass salesman tried to show me a [girl's car] and also asked if i had recently been in a bad automobile accident. the previous car had been destroyed in an accident by another driver while it was parked on the street. that vehicle model had been phased out and wasn't an available option. i didn't want to make any decisions at all, let alone be at the dealership or make the wrong choice.

so.

sped rope with a jump rope this morning long enough to satisfy anorexia (cough, rasp, the taste of blood) and then walked with weights until the third hour ended. i could write something about managing laundry tasks or having to make do with baking soda, dish soap, and vinegar while the sunshine touched my body for two minutes through a window screen. now, five hours after the clothes dryer stopped, i am still squinting and needing to look around blue sunspots.

four days from today i will not understand last week.
things will improve and i won't be able to relate the fear.

...and then the flip side. might this next section still be me or just an alternative personality built out of blindness?

i would like to get to afghanistan before the october elections excite new violence. motherfigure now understands the enormity of a trip to kabul and has changed her vacation dates to specifically interfere with my central asian plans. very nice. might it be love? do i have to appease people by postponing the trip and possibly traveling from peshawar to kabul with a companion next spring? motherfigure and i soon depart for a south east asian vacation but it will be without the benefit of sars to cut the travel costs. airfare seems outrageous compared to what i ordinarily pay. i'm trying to convince her to meet me in tokyo-narita along the way without having her freak out and insisting on getting together in los angeles... could you imagine her in my home? plus i'd have to wash the car... why am i paying for us to travel to bangkok and thailand's andaman coast? surely she won't care as long as it is somewhere... probably could have offered budget vacation ideas and traveled throughout the usa.

read a post on a mountain biking forum about a cyclist who found worms (and a cocoon) in his sports nutrition powerbars (the original performance variety). when he called the powerbar's corporate office, their response was "infestation happens occasionally because the worms live in the flours we use." apparently, an occasional coccoon slips through during the mixing process and is then packaged in the energy bar. the powerbar corporation had even offered to send the cyclist printed information that supports the fact the worms are edible and safe. a google search reveals the powerbar worm (indian meal moth, plodia interpunctella) issue seems to be common in expired stock.

[shudder]

my tongue is depressing on its own now.

it's finally back to school time, labor day weekend, and the most wonderful time of the year. listen... do you hear? it's the sound of silence. no shrieking children screaming while playing "marco polo" in the swimming pool.

it's embarrassing that a disability insurance review, possibly not giving the brain-dead office workers every slice of information they need, and the potential for a follow up physician's exam can put me in the sky. is that right? a paper form both can bring me to my knees and offer thermospheric levels of anxiety? neuroticism hit level eleven today because i may endure a one on one interview and subsequent conversation on a comfortable couch with a physician in a few months.

i know there are spikes of really bad and potentially deadly but don't the spikes of better, faster, smarter, and at half the price count for anything? not that i expect a few spikes of health and independence to balance the whole picture, but isn't the skewed image elevated at all?

what have i been doing lately other than planning a solo trip to afghanistan and not blogging about nerves? traveling is so great for health as it offers an opportunity to live in a different world-- one where my familiar restrictions cannot be framed.

never am i uncomfortable for longer than a few seconds when out far in the world. ha, the things i do. no one knows me. no personal interference. no problems. extreme tourism, even wearing a bulletproof vest in kabul, will find freedoms unavailable here.

paging through this review form brought my life to a standstill today. imagining the answers, it appears someone is needed to tie my shoes after they spend an hour convincing me to wear them in the first place. this paper requires me to write down in full clarity what a flat out loser i am at practices which other people barely give a second thought.

why does bad still always outweigh good?

"these illnesses are something i have to deal with, getting well isn't near as important as gaining a quality of life." once that was the goal, to work around problems, but now it is simply lame. questioning every and anything rather than blindly following along, and then allowing anger when dragged unwillingly has been my primary key. there have been buckets of success but there is no lined section on these pages to explain great strides.

it's just an issue with people and about the way they will look at and judge me... i say, but that is not true. i can direct groups of people. i am an articulate public speaker, can command a lecture hall, and usually demand the attention of a room. talking alone with one person about what i like and hope or dream-- that will rarely happen. one on one with a cashier at a store? no way. calories, brand names, fears of evaluation over product choices, a clerk is not entitled to make a status connection between me and what i purchase. no one needs to judge me by what i choose to wear or drive-- i would rather they not know. this unfortunately means avoiding people and trying to live life between the desolate hours of midnight and 4am. so the problem is not just people, it's more like a privacy matter gone awry. this review form references social interaction and its relationship in managing daily life. landlords, neighbors, social groups, can i manage the post office or any bill paying, do i do my own shopping, do i still avoid the telephone, and the biggie: please give us the name and telephone number of someone who we can contact and talk to about your condition. well, he is not privy to my real name so that's out.

it's stupid really, to be this upset, since once there wasn't even a road. now there is, but i am annoyed with the potholes, and pissed off that the rocks i said would be dealt with later didn't by chance dissolve on their own.

this form just brings it all back. i mean, i don't have any kind of legitimate relationship with even one person who knows my full real name to ask to fill out the supplement form... a personal reference regarding my private life? where am i going to get that? now i have to be embarrassed and think about it. what? i'm supposed to live a life where people can know my real name of what i do on a day to day basis and am not supposed to feel threatened? why should people know if i ever go somewhere? so they can rob my house? i don't have a reliable or local family- it's just me. i don't have that extended protection from strangers.

nobody should be this wet and breathless
unless involved in exciting activities.
ordinarily, major depressive disorder is swirly good.
this inevitable train wreck is wordlessly bad.

i have no idea how to fill out this review form.

name? no one knows my real name.
age? suddenly this is too ridiculous.
it's too strange to write my name down.
who is that?

consider: check into a hospital.
consider: no, it's daylight.

perhaps, tomorrow.


it had been fine. i was dealing-- improving. why is this form debilitating? there is a rule which states to 'never mention illness by name' to thwart the compulsions to act sick. the whole process had been about not looking backwards at temptation.

why are there never any options to talk to a physician on a saturday? why is there only an emergency room option? why do i only ever require one on a holiday weekend?

did i manage to ever live? ever? outside? under the sun? why not sit here and not think about this solitude for another few months? no... this form serves to remind and crack the shell. ouch, that smells of victim-- must scratch that. come back down to earth. how you suck.

a few weeks out of the year spent in foreign places, where a freedom is found since people don't know you, should count for what?

when was the last time i went into a public place? how do i know? i refuse to think about it. off of my regular path? never.

i don't endure panic attacks at home, which is why i remain indoors. why is it essential to go out there and have the anxiety attack? isn't that what this process is-- to feel better for just one day, or just one week abroad, and then use that peace as an inspiration to get well?

scientists at ucla predicted southern california would endure a 6+ magnitude quake by tomorrow. yesterday this would have been laughed off, but the superstition is worth more than a second of consideration when the anxiety disorder is nearby. looking around i see nothing owned worth saving- maybe a painting i like could get stashed in the trunk of the car.

where would you try to protect your belongings from an earthquake? what if i make an effort to do that and an earthquake actually happens during the process? what if the slob sleeping on my living room floor dies when the house collapses and i am left alive outside and unscathed? local abc7 news reported that a man is going around in los angeles and is slashing throats of random people. so, what are the options? a potentially earthquake destroyed painting, which had been ruined to begin with and now after time has aged quite lovely, or i kill a man who tries to approach me with a knife? what do they mean he snuck up behind his victims? i am on guard constantly. who could stand twenty steps behind me and go unnoticed?

this is not going to be a good day.

[undiluted blog]
oh. i almost forgot. this is yours. [from him]
holds up a wad of bills.
mmm. [from me]
where do you want it? [him]
silence.
umm. [me again]
i'll just put it in your wallet. [him]
what's that for? [me]
it's yours. you know? [him]
mmm. [me]

translation: a win and a loss.

if you are searching this site for how many calories are found in envelope adhesives or stamp glue, consider: 1) how fat you must be to worry about those eight calories, as obviously you need to re-examine how to restrict at the mere foundation, and 2) asking your physician for a prescription for antipsychotic medicine to bring you back to earth. now, had i a bmi larger than 12, this type of entry could not exist.

a disability insurance review has arrived in the mail. it is required to prove that debilitating problems continue to interfere with DAILY LIFE.

the last time my file was summoned for a review, i felt so nervous that obsessive compulsive disorder 'flared up' and made it nearly impossible for me to walk to the mailbox. back then, while waiting for the impending decision to arrive in an envelope, on the days i could try to retrieve the mail, i was somehow required by the ocd to step on certain floor tiles. in stepping on some tiles, i specifically needed to follow a particular order or avoid certain spaces. managing mail collection meant a superstitious need to touch or retouch almost any blemish on the walls between the safety of my home and the mailbox corridor. it would take about three minutes to walk fifty steps. touch that speck. wait! re-do that! step with your left foot first instead of your right. hold that key a certain way or bad news will be inside the mail slot! there never was an imaginary watcher aside from myself, but i still would not cheat. stupid illness, and apt to have been as funny as hell, but very real.

this disability review questionaire wants information relating to eight subcategories of DAILY LIFE. well, now what? easy, fill out the form! not so fast. how am i to find someone who likes licking the calories and gluten off of the stamps and envelope glue to seal its return? how will i be able to endure the weeks while waiting for the reply?

there is apt to be a step two, involving a second form requesting the opinion from a third party or 'a friend or loved one's' signed statement on the state of my health. fine. where do i get a friend or loved one? how much do they cost? are they tax deductible? good, they can absorb the stamp's calories and return the papers in the self addressed stamped envelope.

if step three happens, mark my words, the review board is going to insist i am examined by one of their physicians because i do not have any medical references to list on these documents.

that should sum it up right there:
i cannot get to a doctor.
there is nothing to write down on your form.
i will not take your medicine.
this is a prior stalker and subsequent anxiety problem.
- not brain chemistry.

[that should be good enough, instead it is a big red flag.]

during the last review, i got to skip step three. there was no physical exam or interview required.

consider: plan a trip to the emergency room?
consider: with this heart palpitating anxiety, it may not be planned.

fact: must force myself to starve to a hallucinatory heaven if a disability interview is scheduled for me due to lack of evidence in the claim. no one can touch my body. no one should inspire more anorexia by requesting that i disrobe and require my frame to be seen, poked, prodded, and judged.

why do i have to have a panic attack at five o'clock on a saturday morning when the review, as it stands, only involves paperwork? the main issue besides not having information to fill in on the form is now having to set up a doctor appointment in an attempt to have a physician's name and a date to write down. i have to be a big loser to win this insurance review, but if doing fine, i lose bigger. sarcasm: no stress here! i have the answers photocopied from last time and the internet tells all should the rules have changed.

[he] is going to stop by and place an envelope of not less than twenty two, one hundred dollar bills on my computer keyboard and then leave for work. never requested, but never surprised. this has been going on for a long time and today i know i am supposed to make it stop. neither [he] nor the envelope is needed and this should cease to continue.

if i fail at this task, do you agree that i still sort of win?

how did it ever begin? how does one find a person like this and why is [he] willing? is [he] going to "save me" even after having mentioned that money will never buy what is needed most?

it was well documented that anorexia restricted the money spent in regard to food purchases, resulting in groceries that would only make me sick. could it have been my near constant conversations about never finding realistically priced lodging for upcoming foreign trips? perhaps it's due to relating how weekends were incapacitated because i hadn't been able to get out of the house to go to the bank. is the contents given to keep me out and about in the world? when one rarely leaves the house during the daytime and refuses to deal with credit cards offline, you find that large bills have no value after midnight. the gas stations refuse to accept them. convenience stores refuse. bad habits limit life and i can appreciate how it may appear money cannot solve "all" but works to ease "some" pressure.

once i mentioned this envelope phenomenon to my father- someone who acts as though he cannot afford a super value meal at mcdonald's. he has the impression i must be involved in illegal activity to afford vacations let alone round trip flights without seven day advance purchases or saturday night stay requirements. working for myself means unemployment and not technical success. drugs. either i am commiting crimes to have men routinely try to finance my life or i have an incredible sex life. [if that isn't the opinion of someone who doesn't have a grasp on anorexia, then i don't know what is. no one is allowed to touch me. ever. no one will ever brush up against me and there will be no accidents.]

my father is familiar that i get into situations like this as it has become common, but refuses to understand the psychology of needy or geeky men. without any evidence, i am a bad person by default.

the secret, though, is that currently there are two people who sign the majority of their monthly income over to me. a physician, like clockwork, leaves me $2200 on fridays. the other gives me every dollar he earns and i manage his bills- he asks me daily for his meal allowance and bus fare.

are they both paying me to stay alive? if i cannot afford to go and be a normal human being in an incredible or exotic destination, do they think i will let myself succumb to disability? do they think money invalidates mental illness and buys appropriate choices? do they know in some weird sense i am only allowed life after the passport has been stamped? how can someone imagine that just because money is available, it is acceptable to over pay for an item i am not allowed to have? do their actions fulfill a psychological need for affiliation? are they both under the incorrect impression i love them more now than before?

clearly, my feelings and actions of disrespect are much more prominent than any love.

naked chest, don't call me fatso library book

once upon a time
as far away as yesterday
or maybe never at all
my body mass index dropped below [deleted]
and the wretched smothering souls who run the los angeles public library
decided to charge me for an overdue children's diet book.

uncomfortable: sit stand walk run life death

while appropriating the archives of this blog, what i saw that embarrassed me the most was january's initiated complacency and its unavoidable loss of what could be considered a positive trail. i used to try, care, and dream... was proactive and productive in reconstruction... but suddenly my day trader account had flourished and what i was aiming for, which was to attend a regular job outside of my house for the benefit of mental health, didn't seem to matter after that.

why would it? i could make an income by 7:00am every morning with an etrade securities account. why bother with getting it together enough to work for someone else when i could spend an hour or less a day at this desk in casual clothes?

i seemed to have forgotten that to goal was not merely income, rather, the ability to go and do outside of my home and integrate myself into "life" on a continual basis. the hope was that by simple immersion, it would be essential to radically redevelop skills gone lost. really, however deplorable interacting consistently with other people would be, it still could be my greatest therapy.

right now and foreign country escapades aside, very rarely to the point of never, am i doing for myself. i don't remember the last day meals were retrieved with any effort on my part. it may have been back in morocco in june...? tomorrow i will mention that i need to get a money order for this month's rent, will neither offer money nor set cash out to pay for it, and i know the situation will be handled without me. people take over and do things, insisting it makes them feel needed, and these circumstances continue to happen by default.

now how do i bring myself to dump the day trading account and make myself get a regular job? i need it, desperately, but at the same time don't and don't want to bother. i can't do that! i don't want to do it. who, with a choice, would opt for office hell? who would get dressed and drive somewhere through horrendous traffic, pay daily to park their car, growl at co-workers, deal with whatever stresses the job entails, sort out the psychological issues of PEOPLE, and then road rage all of the way home with only a fraction of the paycheck you know you could have earned at your desk- earned at your desk before you would have left for work in the morning.

there are a multitude of reasons not to bother: more clothing costs.... more car maintenance... gasoline expenses... chances for accidents... raised insurance premiums... loss of time... having to schedule a vacation rather than just up and go. oh no, normal!
suddenly, i would value this time which is considered disposable.

a mistake was made by dumping the great plan, stupidly basing that decision on money, refusing to deal with fear. the only thing keeping me from dying inside now after admitting to what needs to be done, is the idea i probably made the common choice.

tonight ends a seven day dasani water fast.
i feel calm, finally finding myself anxiety and allergen free.
one liter of evian now.
a half a cup of apple cider vinegar later.

get a life, it said, and so everything goes.
goodbye ikea rug.
hello goosebumps.
see you later you funky bondage inspired bed frame.
hello hard floors.
it all must be wrong.

kryptonite
past perfect future tense
- magne f [furuholmen]

i may have to look into this.