flagrant disregard

just as it was determined that my watercolor cartoon land of 'LIFEBOX and the DEATH metaphor' should fade deeply into the cold pressed paper it was painted on, resident doctor #4 requested i revisit the syndrome and return with pictures. REX BEFORE and REX THEN mostly look like the current version of anorexia, so any subtleties of disordered eating will scream vibrantly. DAILY LIFE is easily revealed in a comic. emotions are compartmentalized into simple frames. any need for exaggeration seals itself into each box. FEAR is scared, the depressed blog character and spectrum insomnia basically sit and stare, and of course, when flagrant ignores LIFEBOX, LIFEBOX slumps. i am actually speaking out of the correct side of my mouth by referring to paper and thoughts, not body and provocation.

REX says: "but, why not body and provocation?"
REX says: "doesn't 'revisit the syndrome' mean gain a new level of weight loss?"
REX says: "doesn't 'return with pictures' mean to draw it on the body?"
REX says: "twist resident doctor #4's poetry into BLUNDER."

sure, why not starve to the whitelight over this suggestion? this illness commands the ability to manipulate almost anything unrelated into a passionate reason to hurt.

oh, that's right- DEATH.

no, screw DEATH.
those old 'cognitive mushrooms' from a few days back have nothing to do with DEATH.

revisit. did resident doctor #4 in fact say 'revisit the syndrome?' while deciding whether or not to call BLUNDER, i could act on his actual suggestion and repaint the cartoon frames. REX can maintain the same but sharper shape, LIFEBOX gets a dent, and Anxiety will appear circular and sweet. a sprinkle-topping can be used as a distraction- to mask Anxiety as the plain old cake donut and hole that it is. in the next installment, perhaps flagrant places LIFEBOX in airplane seat WINDOW A en route to south east asia. DEATH, now with frequent flyer status, would follow and enrage before abruptly flickering to smoke-- all amid bottled snake wine in a laotian temple of ego strength.

ah, no.

most likely, the drawings will detail flagrant THWUMPING invalid friend with a python-embossed leather flat, because his lawsuit is apt to interfere with SCARYPLACE entertainment. damn that invalid friend! i was about to pull the trigger and spend the last portion of may on the other side of the world.

agenda:
- redo yesterday [get it done]
- manage today [live without FEAR]
- resident doctor #4 in westwood [eh, anything but]

need to register for a class today/ plus other miscellaneous enrollment confirmations/ these are all online issues/ no nervousness about leaving the house/ have been completely paralyzed for the last week.

just do it.

log in/ input personal information/ lastname, firstname/ identification numbers/ pause to consider the stalker problem from long ago/ holy hell/ panic/ nervous would be an understatement/ sit here/ cannot seem to bring self to update demographics with proper and current facts/ does not compute/ becoming visible is extremely uncomfortable/ consider logging off/ logged off.

flirt with abandoning all current but negative notions/ consider the future/ consider the FEAR/ maintaining a fellowship and other related endeavors should be enough work on its own.

log in again/ lastname, firstname/ that name on the screen looks odd/ is it mine?/ who is that person?/ lastname, firstname is successfully invisible/ "we have no record of that name" was once the greatest sentence a clerk typist could ever speak/ impossible to hide behind makeup, a stage name, a business name, or a trust in this situation/ stalking man could easily find me if i attend this particular university/ consider how no one could ever trace the addresses back/ no one/ no public utilities or phone numbers are related to my name/ no bank loans/ no subscriptions/ neither veromi nor zabasearch listing/ no worries!/ lots of worries!/ i picture strangers/ unfamiliar cars waiting on opposite sides of the parking lot/ is someone attentive to the ins and outs of a mailbox rental establishment's clientele?/ "i spy something blonde, firstname"/ kidnap, bind, burn, and skin me alive/ return from the daydream/ reconsider this computer screen/ consider his tortuous plan/ should i enroll i would need to manage these university courses and directive in person/ what do i do?/ want/ need/ do i choose to live or hide?/ so goddamn tired of trying to predict the threat/ is it time?/ what if stalking man seeks me out?/ mouse click yes and pull up the chair, or mouse click [x] to close and wonder for-mmphing-ever/ registering would allow some freedom before that tortuous death/ freedom could be miserable/ initially there will be super high anxiety/ consider that everyone dies eventually/ car accidents/ cardiology/ why hide?/ then again/ there is no excuse for the stupidity of arousal/ in the case of stalking man, being incapacitated by the what if is perfectly justified/ pisses me off/ parallels terrorism/ i appreciate the allowance/ no longer like it.

practice for tortuous death at his hand/ prepare/ no one could hurt me more than me/ subject myself to it/ practice/ perfect/ understand it was in an effort to cope rather than to build and conceal a superhero/ try/ starve to the whitelights/ two arms broken in the gymnasium/ ha, mastered the pain/ resume details experience in thirst/ purge bad memories to the point of seizures/ cut me/ tsk, i can't even see the bone, dummy/ am i supposed to consider pain, like tear up or something?/ choke/ yeah, stalking man will get me on the choke/ air/ i need to breathe/ ask resident doctor #4 how LIFEBOX thrives in a lack of oxygen/ mmm, very well thanks/ imagine a possible future/ but i imagine my sputtering slit throat.

guts were recently put on and the stalking man was paced/ darkness creaks without the howling of dogs/ twigs/ a window into the lair/ time warp/ stalking man was stoned and old but look at me, all of not even fitting into adult sizes/ squint and consider the chase/ old time warp twisted stalking man now only appears to be a threat to heaven.

consider: [stupid/smart] enough to [trust/what if]

the last time the stalking subject was approached in a serious tone, it was entered into blogger from a hotel in cancun. all alone, i was testing out independence and also excitedly thinking about boarding the rickety russian prop plane for havana the next morning. an american female backpacker taking an illegal trip to cuba? well, why not? a great change in my perspective of freedom occurred, right there at the beginning of the trip, and it felt as though i would leave the heft of all threat behind. certainly there are people who want to hurt others, but i convinced myself it would be rare to meet someone who held the same violent intentions as that stalking man from my past. so, off i went on an illicit vacation to cuba for a week, and it was amazing.

my travels afterward delivered me to tropical weather-worn islands off of the central american coast. on the final evening of the adventure, while packing up scuba gear and counting down the hours before flying home, i found myself in a situation where i was about to be raped by two men. it didn't happen. it was there i finally had to admit that even with a hired guard and sleeping behind a locked door (which is the same as how i live in southern california) bad people in the world can still get to me.

it was never mentioned to anyone. what to say? it was just horrible- why even think about it? it has taken awhile for emotions to sedate enough to speak of that night for what it truly was: a fantastic date in my history. i am not a wuss. given the choice between fight or flight, everyone will get knocked down. i can take care of myself but the constant doubt is hell. time and again, it is proven that not only can i go and do, but i will do it well.

this blog has done its job tonight. the frustrations relating to application forms and the privacy lost in revealing personal information, blown quite out of proportion earlier, feel rather insignificant now.

consider: depressed about returning to southern california?
consider: depressed about returning to this side of life?

i might blog about: june, ominous june.
i might blog about: how my body will not handle coping with june.
i might blog about: enrolling in a terminal degree program in september.
i might blog about: FEAR.
i might blog about: anorexia's androgynous symptoms of teenage boy syndrome.
i might blog about: the concept of underwear, and choosing the color pink.
i might blog about: moving to minneapolis for six weeks next summer.
i might blog about: chuck throwing up chinese food he swore he never ate.
i might blog about: how one can paint cartoons to forecast the weather.
i might blog about: how meteorology defines such appropriate symbolism.
i might blog about: knowing where to go and why i left to begin with.
i might blog about: moroccan textiles and my out of control import business.
i might blog about: the lack of whitelight effect during a recent water fast.
i might blog about: giving up, ordering overpriced size 00 denim while tall.
i might blog about: depressed blog character and THE END of BACKWARDS HABIT.
i might blog about: the suspension of all hope.
i might blog about: blurred opinions when i need the pointed pen.
i might blog about: living in the alternative animated world for a week.
i might blog about: weight of ego strength v. loss of socialization

i am not going to blog about: recently winning a toyota highlander hybrid.
i am not going to blog about: separately winning a hybrid electric toyota prius.

i have blogged about: winning a 2004 MINI cooper S in a candy bar promotion.

i might blog about: my continual good fortune.
i might blog about: "it's as good as it gets," said Godfigure. "cheer up."
i might blog about: how i despise both hybrid vehicles and still need to buy a car.
i might blog about: turning these amazing wins into a grant-worthy eco-experiment.
i might blog about: learning to hack these two hybrids for premium efficiency.

i might blog about: giving freely, and how it returns in over 1000 ways.

i
hate
getting
back
into
the
blog
after
a
vacation.

should i remain, the lifebox will have learned to prop itself up with down, giving me ample time to return to the puzzle. i would rather the collective just read but the squinting proves detail, thus fuss. a form of savored digestion- only then will these words get held in my mouth.

consider: significant.
consider: writing what i mean in english.
consider: more confounding than the romance?

i keep breaking out of different levels of dissociation, and although each awareness gained seems to be the prerequisite to one version of health, this has also acted to welcome other harm. destructive experiences are not producing lovely chemical reactions. [how to cope with a loss of coping mechanism?] a few days ago, fractured life neither produced the chemical reaction nor the subsequent dissociation. [how to mourn this crap?] now, though content continues, impairment is misused. [panic attacks need no justification.]

consider: terminating dissociation with a form of injury?
consider: replacement of hyperarousal to act as the punishment?

fact: this way or that way, self regulation finds an escape.

consider: current water torture.
consider: the spaces in between when yesterday was spread.
consider: slammed-to-the-floor depression or standard inflection?

[FEAR starts, intensifies to the point it can just laugh.]

let's get rich in different ways.
let's not entertain the cubicle worker's daydream.
let's make it clear our spouse will have a second third degree.
let's not wallow in too much more aftermath.
let's occasionally do the don't.

the last three days have been spent articulating trauma- today is the afterward and basically has amounted to a prolonged anxiety attack. is the drain in the sink rusted from age of use, or hydrochloric acid? i have to wonder as i can no longer fall into it.

it is difficult to accept that my favorite state of dissociation is now failing to produce the same disconnective impact. everything except grit needs to be acknowledged in order to end the process, and this end seems to be occuring without my active involvement. as of now, just do it has nothing to do with curbing current bad habits. breaking through and holding each level of awareness during the self injurious process is uncomfortable. i'm here- i don't want to be here. i almost long for the ignorance of the beginning when disordered eating felt to either be about beauty, or a simple confliction between the horrible want and inevitable need.

skinny cow stands in the road- between poipet and siem reap, cambodia

i could travel to cambodia today and, upon arrival at the border town, bargain for transportation- perhaps once again morph into a state of limbs and hiss in order to keep mafia members out of the hired ride. en route to tourism or wherever we would eventually stop, i'd calm and just shake my head at the omnipresent and dusty scene of bored kids smacking around skinny cows with sticks.

it's hard to believe the same person is sitting here, alternating the blowing of nose with wiping up puddles of salty tears from the desk, and only because... schedules are going to change next month? the best part of owning a personal blog is in how i will feel calmer after having typed it out. how "it's everything right now but really just nothing." blogging usually brings it all down. i don't know of other people who live on both sides of a gigantic spread. resident doctor #4 chronically romanticizes the level of life i have, but is equally in awe over how incapacitating the tiny splinters of change can be for me. that is not only interesting to hear, but probably a perfect perspective.

what is to be so scared about when considering the upcoming schedule of summer? why be a nervous wreck? i don't know what the specific fear should antagonize and that is the problem. i am not prepared for the unknown and habitually (ridiculously) cover all bases before jumping in. exotic travels are easy-- protect myself from physical threat and do not get scammed --but the fear of next month? there are too many variables. what if my newest version of DAILY LIFE is inflexible? what if familiar worlds cannot intersect? the loss of connectivity and its subsequent hurt is then my fault for deciding to stretch. how to handle this interim state of the great what if? i need times, dates, and precision confirmed now in order to make decisions and therefore benefit from this anxiety. when the nervousness cannot be harnessed into a form of protection, the mental noise is overwhelming. i historically functioned on nothing, which should register a soothing thought, but right now i fear having to give something up.

no one is reliable.
i cannot let my guard down for one minute.
i rarely trust other people but tried.
he completely screwed up.

you know, i've been reheating the same pot of coffee for four days now. there is an income-- could pour it down the drain --but still, it will not happen. this morning i awoke to find one third of myself had gone missing, but this stale coffee is telling an entirely different story.

if not for near constant blue-speckled blackness, har har, starving to the whitelight wouldn't seem very bright at all. well, if it's not a game, i will not play. lacing up shoes, counting in triple time, and sighs- all i am doing lately is fending off six hour increments of ruin.

on monday, since visiting laos is probably a loss, the destination changes to water torture.

whether it be by allergy or digestive paralysis, cognitive ingestion is trying to kill me. "swallow this lighted tube," the dreamy physician will say. [rule: there will be no tubes.] why swallow an expensive camera to prove yesterday's mushrooms linger when i could probably distribute them intact, on cue, after simply drinking too much water?

fact: upper endoscopy, $1300
fact: a three finger solution and a bucket, $0
consider: but, what's the price of one week of life?

diagnosis: you definitely have gastroparesis.
translation: see, i said i was still full.

summer is already a big problem.
"you're like walking art," said a random stranger.
[computes]
this makes four comments in four outings.

fresh cut flowers would have died by now, and all the greeting cards fingered last week were either pink or told asinine jokes. it doesn't matter. i like it better when you paint your own cards for me, she would have said.

at the book shop, two people with a difficult enormity scared me or stared me straight out of the store. rather than acknowledge my awe-inspiring arms and wave them in swollen faces, i sensed the threat of drool and almost ran. perhaps i was their desperate top-shelf cookie, but the pace slowed upon doubting these obese would acquire anything out of reach.

now, had there been a revolving door, i might have reconsidered in the roundabout and returned to provoke. a thanksgiving slaughter felt imminent, but consider if it were my head on a plate? fearing a mouth propped open by an soggy cooked apple, next time i swear i'll waft by.

the intended mother's day gift was dropped on the display during that great escape. it seems the public continues to divide itself into a gigantic maw or an unblinking eye, and lately this has been difficult to navigate.

in walking from the parking space to resident doctor #4's office building, a transition takes place. i fall into myself and stitch up whatever had been open. shirt sleeves get rolled down. a leather zipper tab is yanked up to the choke. upon stepping into the crosswalk, regression always seems to unite thumbnail to parted lips. wherever it actually is, that land of prime numbers and hum, nothing can break through. after an hour, i safely emerge, but by then, it's time to retrace the path and avoid the cracks on the way back to the car.

in the case of the lawsuit, it appears that chuck is being sued for 'not providing' something in relation to his job, which he had no authority over in the first place. basically, the plaintiff has buyer's remorse and is incorrectly suing chuck, when she should be after his firm. chuck's company agrees and will protect him.

plans:
- change perspective from 'stressful' to 'interesting.'
- use this lawsuit as education.
- help see that the plaintiff's idiocy becomes expensive.

resident doctor #4 referred to the monster in the room and in doing so, spent over five seconds in articulating his name. [anorexia / ah, cringe!] odd, how this accusation consistently arrives during times of specific sweater. when did the invisible chest puffing and secret pride reverse to implosion? [anorexia / ah, there it is again. cringe!] portions of former esteem are becoming uncomfortable.

grrrrrr........

chuck's court summons and directions for how to proceed-
it appears to be copied from a 'sued for dummies' guide

while at work yesterday, chuck was served with a summons for a lawsuit.
all together now: "he doesn't know! he didn't do anything wrong!"

consider: referring to many aspects of illness as injury.
consider: introducing post traumatic stress disorder to the blog.
consider: tethering the horrible spectrum.
consider: one tidy umbrella rather than ten labels.

resident doctor #4 supplied me with his abbreviated schedule for the memorial day weekend. our freed up dates allow for a nine day trip, so the gods of frequent flyer elite status have ordered me to fly to south east asia.

after hours of fearing the 'commerce of privacy' yesterday morning, my social security number was reluctantly provided on an application. everything went to hell after the submission of name and numbers. ["not only do i exist, but i live here."] the subsequent panic attack was expected, but when the emphasis decided to last into the night, i facetiously blamed evolution. c'mon, you don't just stack the neocortex on top of a limbic system!

costumed and crying in the hallway on a strange anniversary of visibility- the frustration was in how i understood why i might be upset, but that it didn't appear to deserve drama. here begins looking into a task of harmony- when emotions are responding to reminders of trauma but the rational brain has no real sense of what is happening.

it is the worst day of my life again, but as usual, it stands without legitimate defeat. how many more worsts will there be? i had originally thought eleven but hands of despair keep sliding out and slapping over one another. are the days apt to ever run out, or, am i to run them out? why employ which compensates with peace if calm cannot rattle the jar? large bills, please- i like it hushed. oh look, only two more hours of overwhelming nothingness to go.

the afternoon was spent in the closet where i tried to have a third beautiful moment by combining prostitute shoes with 14 gauge cashmere. on reflection, it only came to happen once and that was 'on' instead of 'at' the right angle. LIFEBOX may have experienced an exorcism but seeing as the tissues are still dripping with neuroscience- it's gotta be limbic. as usual, neocortex rationalizes the spunk found in brightly colored knits while agitation notoriously spans the gap.

i paid the car insurance online and therefore cannot possibly be living underground. only one day has passed since yesterday? justify coachella or rock the rocking chair? everything sucks especially being too old to use the word.

another one of those 'beautiful' moments occurred yesterday. while walking in a crosswalk which intersected four lanes of traffic, a man decided to turn and remind me. suddenly slammed with a decade of all which never started rather than his intended complement, tears ran before reaching the curb. the belt of a cropped trench coat whipped with the misery of traffic, but in the security of noise, the recollection and confliction between affairs felt fine. beautiful as insult.

consider: now had he said pretty...
consider: calling upon the old death metaphor.

arghh, without extra emotion

it makes no sense to receive a medical bill today, may 1st, 2006, for a diagnostic evaluation performed way the F back on december 7th, 2004. i imagine the statute of limitations is longer than 18 months, but there was no insurance assignment attached to that particular doctor visit, so this bill should have been delivered within 90 days.

after ucla medical group is made to prove this bill is mine, and one might wonder if the people running the billing department even can, the plan should be to divide the payment into 18 future monthly installments.