flagrant disregard

a friend with schizophrenia claims his diagnosis by stating that a voice is occasionally heard whispering, "your heart beats sideways and you can feel blood surging backwards." the narrated auditory hallucination and odd influences on the body that he insists he experiences are examples of first rank symptoms.


though devoid of psychosis, i feel physically similar today due to this current trial of effexor-- it feels as though my heart sporadically clanks awkwardly to the left. in odd spots of time, i would suggest my heart actually stops beating, blood builds up at the dam, and i can sense an overflow of pressure. weirdness abounds-- might this medicine provide tactile hallucinations or are those typically external? my hypersensitivities are apt to be the reason.


consider the metaphor, how this halting life needs to reverse in pulse. the experience is odd, so i will not neglect the bizarre with a banal description.


resident doctor #4 would suggest i increase the medicine. "less side effects at a higher dose," he always says. one concern is how my heart has occasionally been slamming into my chest so hard, i thought it aimed to knock me down. resident doctor #4 also reassured that there are no side effects relating to cardiac complications with this pill. whether or not this chest pain is true, i have read reviews from others on effexor who have experienced the same uncomfortable heart beat.


how are we to distinguish what it is i am feeling? perhaps a definitive explanation is unnecessary, but i want information. is this jolting reaction a non-epileptic seizure-like phenomenon? could it be a simple drug intoxication? too much medicine rather than too little? or, might it simply be an erratic spasm?


no portions of the medicine have made it into my body since tuesday, but tonight the discomforts and stammering pace in thought remains. i can barely walk.

one of the best days in my life.
one of the worst nights in my life.
somewhat surprised i lived through it.

how has this trial of medication influenced hunger?: it did not remove any physical indications toward the need for consumption, but it did eliminate the insistence and urgency.

imagine being hungry, gnawingly ravenous actually, and living a life where that esuriency ordinarily inspires a fear- but then on this medicine just not having an emotional response to it. hunger seemed to only be a minor physical feeling which comes with having a body- like a painless sensation of being touched. for instance, when the cat walks by and 'head butts' me on the leg. "oh, it's just the cat." this experience of hunger was similar. "oh, that's just hunger." hunger was acknowledged but immediately blown off. ordinarily i do not act on hunger cues, but in no way should that illustrate a lack of chaos beneath the surface. hunger without chatter and annoyance- this 'lack of urgency' is holding my interest enough to explore.

the missing obsessive familiarity thwarts all conflict. what this means is that the pill removed the crap specific to 'complications of awareness' which come from dealing with a long term eating disorder.

without this medicine: "all choices from both perspectives of the problem (whether positive, negative, or bizarre) are approached and confirmed as valid and urgent. it's usually impossible to fulfill more than one of those needs with one choice without the selection appearing very odd. acting on only one choice in value is incorrect- because the remaining options have merit. choosing that which fits all parameters (of positive, negative, and bizarre; and from both perspectives) is required, and a strange production needs to be performed to manage it, but in the end that weirdness is the only thing which offers this state of eating disorder the calming effect."

there is a secret language here i cannot yet articulate, for instance, why my eating disorder breaks foods down into categories. an example of a 'sweets' category has nothing to do with sweets, sweet tasting, sugar, happy foods, or extras but on exception can incorporate chocolate from germany. a 'bread' category includes potato chips, dry lettuce salad, soup, dead water, and cheese {but not orange cheese which would be classified a 'sweet'}... never mind. i cannot imagine anyone 'out of the loop' would understand how 'soup' equals 'bread' or that a cheddar cheese is classified into a variety of sweet. a system such as this, though unique to each user, is a common companion to this ordeal.

on this medicine: "i felt as though i could hold my decision (whether positive, negative, or bizarre) at the chosen level. i also felt able to release the issue of opting for a selection which needed to cover a variety of issues. under no circumstance could this pill 'make' me choose something in which i was not comfortable. it could be said that it strengthened 'philosophy' or 'the eating disorder attitude' but a better explanation would be 'it has helped eliminate the whirlwind conflict between decision and action.'"

this pill has the potential to facilitate either sickness or health, but not on its own. it would definitely depend on how i decided to put it to work.

continued side effects:
- my heart occasionally hurts very badly
- way too energized and amped up
- thus predictable insomnia and dehydration
(to the point of vision disturbances, especially when on the computer)

smogging station sign, and half of a friend

a torn dollars off coupon and i went to have the car smogged, and though the situation was ripe for amusement, digital video in hand would have proved arrogant. the california department of motor vehicles requires the adherence to stringent emissions standards. a MINI cooper may be "50 state legal" in that it meets or surpasses all smogging regulations nationwide, but since mine has never been registered in california, an emissions inspection is required prior to the application and distribution of license plates.

as has been detailed, i would rather have toenails pulled out than have a person lacking an extensive education take control of my possessions, so it goes without saying that procrastination has ruled over this registration process. the temporary registration tags attached to the MINI expire this week. the process out of state was different from california-- a temporary tag with the expiration date was written in bold black marker onto a cardboard license plate facsimile. in california, a small permit is usually attached to the lower passenger's side of the windshield. basically, with this cardboard tag the MINI is wearing, anyone who looks at the rear end of the car will notice the date is drawing near.

do i care? does it matter if i wait and am a few days late? how much of a fine am i risking if allowing the expiration date to pass? unless late at night or bored, the lapd seem to have better things to do than initiate a traffic stop for expired tags. from personal experience, they consistently refuse to venture out to write up an accident report.

i suppose the expiring cardboard tag could be replaced with any type of "i got mine at this specific car dealer" advertisement, and then it would not gather attention. where am i going to get one of those? my old car has license plates-- i could temporarily switch... or, gee, i could just suck it up, thwart general anxieties, and make an appointment with the dmv to take care of this.

why postpone this activity for as long as possible? in addition to registration fees and the pleasure of standing in line at the dmv, i get to write out a huge check to the state of california for sales tax. though i will gladly pay, it's just too bad these additional thousands (and thousands and thousands) of dollars were not included on the original bill-- i would have had one enormous check to write out at the dealership upon purchase instead of an additional transaction upon returning home.

for this split second in time, and don’t you dare hold me to it any other minute of my life, spending money on this MINI has bought me so much happiness. for six years i held myself to the philosophy of "car as appliance, nothing more." no matter how determined i was to herald that ideology, it is honestly not true. in my case, image and personality are revealed in a choice of vehicle.

the purchase of my last car was forced upon me since a reckless driver had totaled its predecessor. this accident occurred during an impoverished time-- both in finances and life. other than an appalling budget line of domestic car, my last car which this MINI is replacing might have been the only proper choice. by claiming pauperism and holding onto that car for so long, it manipulated the embarrassing realization of my lowered capacity into something special. my zeitgeist of disappointment. i won't be putting myself though that crap again... car or life.

[skip ahead]

the smog technician at the 'official smog center' proved amusing.

this attendant could not: 1) rectify why a brand new car was sitting in his automotive bay waiting to get smog checked; 2) figure out how to open the door the first, second, or third time; 3) locate the hood release (it's found on the passenger's side); 4) locate the car battery (it's installed in the trunk); or, 5) find the make and model in his computer. after five or so minutes, he excitedly revealed, "oh, it's made in germany. it's a bmw!" oh so close, but try again!

...or, next time just ask.

actually, the process was orderly and the MINI provided some excitement for the clerks. the mechanics all enjoyed the interesting nuances this vehicle offers.

[skip ahead]

the clerk at the dmv processed all of the paperwork, had me write out a $300+ check for the registration fees, then handed over a manila envelope. the contents consisted entirely of an information sheet, two license plates, and two required stickers. since the dmv clerk said i was "all set" and the office was about to close for the day, i left immediately.

so, what about the payment of thousands (and thousands and thousands) of dollars which is owed in california sales tax?! from all of my research, people in similar situations were paying the tax at the time they collected their license plates.

the dmv clerk was following a computer program which walked him through the registration process-- he could not have accidentally done anything wrong. well, unless, perhaps he initiated the wrong type of registration. it doesn't appear so-- everything looks correct. i will return to pay, but not until finding out the specifics of this loophole. what could have possibly happened? i did not pay tax on the car out of state upon its purchase.

consider: what was checked or left unchecked on the application which eliminated tax collection? i have registered newly purchased out of state vehicles in california before and the dmv will never release the plates without the huge tax payment in full. i did supply an out of state title (never did this before) but this shouldn't relate to the sales tax. perhaps by offering a title (with the dealership's name on it) the computer considered me to be the second owner? or, perhaps my mileage has accumulated to a level which eliminates the taxation? either way, that shouldn't matter, should it?

these are additional side effects experienced from the trial in medicine. note that i am taking a quarter (or less) of a tablet of effexor (not very consistently) and none of the abilify antipsychotic samples.

- loss of coordination when walking (heavy feet, off balance)
- muscle twitching (right hand)
- blepharospasms (involuntary winking, right eye, fatigue)
- blurred vision (similar to 'oily' eyesight when dehydrated)
- metallic taste/saliva (can i taste the iron excipient in the pill?)

once when traveling in holland, i spent a day walking around with a man who was under a doctor's care for schizophrenia. he talked nonstop about his treatments with seroquel and spoke of trials which arose from authority once they heard of his diagnosis. one of the most notable things he insisted, was how certain antipsychotic medicines would cause the 'bones to stick out of his face' or 'radiation to pour from his teeth.' in the way he related experiences to people, it is obvious they ignored his capacity for ideation and chalked up all of his concern to the symptoms of psychosis.

"radiation is streaming out of my teeth right now. does it bother you?" he was concise-- and had reduced social cues. sure, the sentiment is there, but it would be a little weird to most people unless he elaborated and said, "the prescriptions i take are causing problems. my teeth are sensitive and i have a terrible tasting, hypersalivating issue lately. i hope this wincing and slurpy swallowing is not too disturbing to you. is it?"

i doubt his psychiatrist listened, but using the term 'radiation' is as close as he could have defined those unintended consequences. in referring to the 'bones sticking out of his face,' this statement was assumed to relate the dramatic weight loss stemming from his treatments. though i am testing a completely different classification of medicine, his experience parallels the side effects i dealt with last night.

less less than 12 hours after swallowing this pill, my metabolism has noticeably amped up. the body feels drained, sunken in, and how odd, my cheekbones occasionally feel huge-- almost as if they are in the way. there have been sporadic sensations of extra and offensively saliva, as though my teeth are 'leaking' an oppressive liquid metal. minor hormonal disturbances have also inspired a noticeable libido in my mouth. off and on, my lips seem to be subtly 'vibrating' or 'pulsing' beneath the surface.

had i not learned to detail this internal and usually insignificant world, the 'radiation pouring out of my teeth' (a combination of vibrating and bad tasting ptyalism) probably would have been how i related this hypersensationalism, too.

if you were to occasionally reach into the left side pocket on an item of your clothing, and find that a penny had secretly been placed there by another person, would you assume the coin was intended to be lucky?

i have a few other questions: might theses coins have only been 'thought' to drive luck? do you believe the issuance of these coins was used to promote action, strength, or protection? if this is a superstition rooted in luck, is it purely related to the distributor's own luck? is the psychological effect in that these coins were put into my pocket to influence me, or does the action influence 'something' for the person who put them there?

this 'finding a single penny in my left pocket' phenomenon had gone missing for several years, and i know most of this person's coin-based superstitions relate to luck, but what do i have to do with the luck? what do i represent? am i luck's goal? is the intention for something extraordinary to happen to me-- or not happen to me?

back in the days when i enjoyed slaying this nervous man's monsters, it was explained best that he should find a talisman which 'warded off the bad' rather than welcomed 'that which may be interpreted wrong.'

he didn't catch on-- never considering the difference between bringing good luck and fending off bad luck.

i tried again by telling him to "quit with the good luck charms" and instead find an enjoyment of psychological release in a memento or medallion "which kept bad luck at bay." in calling out to so much good luck with a charm, it may actually summon a variety of instances or life experiences which the good luck charm's owner had no experience in managing. from a percentage standpoint, many choices and decisions would inevitably be handled wrong, thus rendering a large portion of the arriving luck to turn bad.

"unless you have extensive experience in discerning that realm, it could appear you are barraged with a fortune of bad luck. shouldn't your chosen phylactery ideally be an amulet rather than good luck charm?"

i was not intentionally being rude to him, but honest. i only wanted to change the bizarre behavior. considering the ridiculous subject matter of luck, belief, and omens, planting a different seed was definitely worth a shot. who knows if an alternate habit took its place, but after those magic words were spoken about
"the potential to inappropriately manage good luck" the penny rituals ended immediately.

five years have marched on since that conversation. the pennies are back. found here. there. occasionally they are in a lot of four coins. always pennies, never quarters. i don't mind luck in a pocket, but am annoyed when flattened and discarded pennies find their way to my home. perhaps rough and damaged coins which have been living in the street for the last month could remain out there.

how can i influence the end of his coin superstition or preoccupation with luck this time? it takes more than common sense to break the spell-- it might need a combination of facts, and perhaps my own odd sense of what luck can be.

"stop putting these coins in my pockets." no. that would eventually escalate into the land of anger and fistfights. "gasp! look what i just found. one penny in a pocket always brings me such bad luck." stupid, yes, but do all superstitions and common myths need a tight excuse to thrive? why not rescue a black cat around halloween, thwart the evilness ordinarily associated with it, and insist this cat represents luck. a new cat would certainly bring enjoyment.

what would happen if i said, "i have great insurance with unrestricted prescription drug coverage and a doctor who will dole out anything. if you want to fix this problem, or investigate whether or not this may not be a superstition and actually obsessive compulsive disorder, just ask. okay?" he already takes an ineffective tca for refractory depression-- after a disastrous attempt at getting on a maoi. perhaps he should switch over to an ssri antidepressant?

this behavior does not rank as disruptive but it can get out of hand. it flourishes to the point of finding pennies which have been glued together and then wedged into seams of furniture. i have seen him dangerously stop in the middle of a busy intersection to nab a 'heads up' coin.

consider the sentence, "this obsession of yours is stressing me out. it's making me sick." it would be instantly effective, but also unfair. i won't use that idea.

problem: a short paper on thermodynamics was assigned on friday and is due in approximately six hours. this submission needs not be pedantic but it is required to be reasonably intelligent.

problem: each paper i have written for this class has been singled out by the professor and distributed to all students. "use this example as your guide. it is indicative of the work required to succeed in this course," he said of the first. most of the text of the second paper was highlighted with red marker. how to strive to only tread water in the face of someone who expects you to win the race? this is the class where i purposely took one wrong on the first exam to alleviate future pressure.

problem: is it egotistical to suggest the professor is looking forward to reading this next paper? he likes me. he answers anything i post online immediately but waits days to respond to other members of the class. it feels funny.

problem: i have no idea how to formulate this assignment and am too rigid to try to research my conclusion in the remaining time. this is bad. how and where to start at any other place than the beginning? how does one fake the regurgitation of facts? i don't want to simply retell or recite in straight sentences. there is no poetry to screw around with- no misinterpretation involved. how to manipulate words to appear i am not just spitting back a lecture? how to relate 'this' to 'something else' in a few hours if unsure to the extent of what 'this' defines? there is no chance this evening will become brilliant... and now, looking at the question again, it appears a refresher course in theoretical meteorology or atmospheric thermodynamics may be required to put my level of assignment to task.

problem: what am i doing? just what in the hell am i doing? why pay money to an institution to put myself though this conflict? i deal with anxiety- shouldn't this mean simply taking art and listening to bach? sketching flowers? enduring the fluttery hell of painting amidst pigeons on uneven stone-laid squares in france? no, not me... let's accumulate competitive science degrees to impress the uncomplicated people i am apt to never meet.
[- shoots self in head with index finger and thumb -]

problem: fully engaged in subjects taught in languages other than english earlier today. have i returned from reading cyrillic? am i still barking out modern philosophy with double negatives or am i on to the problem of speaking my own flagrant language? this could be an issue.

problem: i took half of one of those pills this afternoon and immediately experienced adverse effects. not only was there a headache, sweating, shaking, nausea, a swollen tongue, dysgeusia (metallic taste in my mouth), and blurred vision, but i experienced a hallucination featuring a childhood pet walking by. this definitely felt like an overdose- gastrointestinal distress and falling in and out of consciousness for a few hours seem to confirm it. thoughts of food are nonexistent and the pill seems to have also planted me in a head of cloudiness rather than amplifying or taking me out. since this pill trial is not meant to medicate a specific problem, it appears it too can lecture about size and significance. overdosing on infant-sized dosages- this body is sensitive and obviously not huge.

problem: the six remaining hours have now dwindled to two.

consider: how i spent down this time to further an intense competition.
consider: in a healthier domain.
consider: i even used the pill as a challenge to this assignment.
consider: tick tock, knowing i operate best under a threat.

[later]

consider: perhaps 'i don't really know how to tie it all together fluidly and am therefore removing myself from the game' would have been a better response than submitting flavorless sentences consisting of boring facts.

consider: how useful and useless this chronic doubt can be.

while outside getting some exercise, a man who was swinging a plastic gas can flagged me down. he then demanded i give him money so he could go buy a gallon of gasoline.

AND you know me, having once lived in fear of everything outside of isolation, i have what appears to be an off-the-cuff speech prepared for any conceivable situation. AND what works best to get all strangers to quickly run screaming in the other direction? biblical verse. cut to the chase, he called me a sour six letter word before i even said no. now, when pointing out that fact, the sudden gleam of hope in his eye would have caused anyone else to suck in a bug.

so, that was the highlight of sunday-- standing on a corner berating a stranger for neither knowing hermeneutics nor the basic principles of eschatology.

both sides of the spectrum demand an understanding of their specific urgencies. they diligently try, but since each cannot translate that flip side, it is neither valued nor loosely embraced. conflict, it seems, can never be rectified until 'all which seems insignificant' is made profound. effort pretty much stops here, though rage and insistence continue.

consider: not needing to fully understand an urgency in order to come to an agreement, but instead, acting on the knowledge that the urgengy exists.

this perspective worked to facilitate change towards that which previously has only adapted temporarily... if forced. my yesterday was successful without being determined by a number, humiliation, or emergency room.

late on friday night or early into the saturday morning hours, life finally quiets and i reflect on the week- swearing to get to an internist's office by monday. by the time sunday night arrives, the voice of eating disorder will have convinced me that any vomiting due to gastroparesis needs not be acknowledged as a problem. it's the same old theme. essentially, if anorexia is allowed to thrive, what sense does it make to treat any side effect?

the body is exhausted, extremities are once again cramping up, and the system is overwhelmed- even rejecting small portions of plain steamed vegetable. "but this makes sense," the eating disorder tries. "everything which is breaking is in succession and should be perceived as a predicted string of events." how to argue? then again, consider the real argument and who or what it is against.

once upon a time it was good for me to separate myself from illness and refer to eating disorder as a thought different from my own. why not put a 'voice' to the dictator and listen? it worked for awhile, but extending its subscription to the voice box also unfairly alleviates myself from blame. i continue to investigate the relationship of allergic reactions and try to map out whether or not they function as eating disorder pawns. it appeared so, but now the last few days detail something much different but nothing new. there are interwoven issues- physical reasons stand on their own, but they can be an option.

over the last week, i feel like i have just reached the end of the world. it's an unfamiliar dead end, and rather flat. the body seems to have run out of electricity. percentages cannot go on, but on a whole the physical won't fold. no suicidality, but all DEATH metaphor. or is it a coma? easier to explain in a vibrantly colored cartoon how 'flagrant needs to groan loudly, and then reluctantly carry the LIFEBOX around- only setting it down in safe places for now.' care. cared for. tend to myself. grumble but accept it.

recently DAILY LIFE found a few food forwards -- watered down soup, such novelty -- to offer a calm and now an allowance to redefine hurt.

consider: physical problems stem from a lifelong problem... how to allow myself to fix them when i said i would accept anything which came along? illness has become so infiltrated, perhaps any situation of future ill health could sensibly be traced back to it. how not to adhere to black and white thinking? how not to make a sarcastic jump and write life off as a side effect from being born? yeah, i don't think i want to spend the day in bed and then when asked what is wrong, offer it up to my mother's proficient biology.

maldigestion issues need to recover now-- in hours, not weeks. time seems desperate. how to tighten the central nervous system enough to readjust digestive and excretory systems without the help of a hospital setting? how to do this alone and without automatically eliminating every solid food from my life? slowly aiming for health could indeed write the prescription for nirvana.

anorexia supplied new Rules this week- they started after the last time my body rejected nutrition. common subtractions on a chart are combined with wincing additions of weirdness. it's as though every day since forever started out with a grand proclamation and promise of difference, so The Rules needed to be radically revised to hold the same influence. swish all liquid nickels in a goblet. does that mean metallic tasting tap water supplied in something special? or, let's make the nothing into an occasion? the chart is always written in secret code.

consider: how long will i need physical excuses to remain in the way? looking at the eating disorder without one means to inhale the drug. as long as enamored with something violent, and not trusting my own intentions, it's best not to be alone with it. it gets rude, but always computes, and i won't be able to shake the tunnel vision. resident doctor #4 has such a poor bedside manner-- routinely making me feel worse in the dark hours -- i will need to own some strength rather than merely looking to him for support.

sat on an airplane in an unrestrained aisle B
picked up one of those increasingly horrific gm rental cars
AND drove to hell but the air conditioner worked, so…

considered remaining in aforemention inferiority
considered this thing called 'hiding in the restroom'
AND decided i smelled good enough to exist.

later, i thought: 'how am i talking to several hundred eyes right now?'
immediately stuttered, but formed err-adicate out of the err
AND did not release a clue with an accidental smile.
forgive me father, for i almost sinned in front of people…
AND i will never again question the autopilot experience.

a man said: “i’d like to have an opportunity to talk to you.”
i thought: 'to you, damn you- the correct word was with.'
consider the state of being manifold:
pfft, get in line! go away, don't look at me!

chairs were heavy but water was fresh.
he said: "want? you? consider? 12? lectures? $2500? meet? soon?"
i thought: 'no! yes! yes! yes! yes! each? where? yes!'
i said: “mmm, perhaps.”


flying over the channel islands--
pacific ocean, california

AND later i chatted with an overdyed flight attendant
AND smiled down at the channel islands out the window.
i thought: 'oh my god, i’m thinking i can do what?!'

drove home through disorienting marine layer or brain fog
bravo, broke the rules
AND threw up all unarticulated stress.

horrible. i've thrown up nightly since gallup, new mexico.

how does this mere three week streak feel worse than seven or so months of lazy holiday in the past? ah, because i am no longer dissociative and instead dissect this lack of puppetry all of the way from ignition key or whole foods cashier, to smearing blessed dmae after wiping up the sink. in cases of extended gagging, the death serum's dramatic swelling reduction trumps concerns of cellular damage.

gallup was an oasis from asphalt and concrete drives spent barking at my tachometer, thus expression of familial frustration continued inside a route 66 hotel room.

cereal, serial.
apple, round.

[ocd = fun]

wtf was LIFEBOX doing throwing up an apple in an economical hotel rather than stalking the halls to play the b/p slot machines? chalk it up to the cycle of circular discomfort. i should have used these conversations with the sink to finger the illicit twice.

the only good part about waking up unrecognizable, and having now thrown up every available memory in the world, is that the deprivation issues just don't even... dare.

consider: how to get people to stop telling me to stop worrying?
consider: how to manipulate people to change their default?

a guest lecture in the bay area today/ a lilt is born but relates to counterphobia and dies/ arrived, yet just now departing for the airport/ desperately attempting to recapture the excitement lost from learning to devour fear.

in an effort to illustrate the perfect example of how to go about completing the work in his course, a professor posted one of my papers to all of his students. he used that word, too, perfect.

consider: F in mental health.

while not unusual in the least, let's mourn a sudden lack of adventure. had a similar scenario happened last year, i would be (dys)functioning far beyond the surreal inferno- coiling rope into a bucket and sharpening a hand saw while plotting out a retaliatory murder worthy of my embarrassment.

well, not today. i read the preface to the posted assignment and thought, "oh yeah, this had damn well better be me." in fact-- oh my god, what is happening -- i am thoroughly discouraged that anonymity has been maintained and my name is not attached to the example.

consider: A in mental health.

the anorexia has painstakingly prepared an updated testament to the strength. so much for conservative strategy. "the predictor shall never become more important than the achievement itself," it said. while acknowledging the mismatched charm of essentially being harnessed to this unrestrained affair, i find it difficult not to flirt with personally taking that as a complement.

the appearances of certain ill behaviors as a response to various but specific frustrations are becoming irritatingly predictable. this doesn't yet eliminate any desire to act on those habits. allergy and food intolerance continue to define themselves as one of eating disorder's masks, rendering the core of intention unable to speak through convolution.

so, do you think i can get down to eighty pounds?

doomed!
suddenly lacking structure in one constant.
AND here comes trouble.

resident doctor #4 suggests i might be starting to feel now. fine- then what is the distinctive definition of that word when used on this blog last year? emotions, yuck! who wants to be driven by a graphic equalizer of sensations when one can eliminate them and...

random fact: he has off next monday, so i won't see him for two weeks and this feels potentially disastrous. potentially? i am planning the disaster.

- neighbor's car is no longer blocking my driveway access.
- whoever has been slashing tires must have left it alone.
consider: how bad that would have made me look.

- KID is walking around the house raving about mutant peaches.
- sure enough, with enough mass to almost rival a softball.
- a basket of them were left at the foot of the door.
- but... along with an enormous watermelon?

consider: the bigness of a simple parking disruption.
consider: the bigness of this simple apology.
consider: the multiples of complexities but leaving it at that.

during times of lacking street parking availability, one of my neighbors in LA decides to invent a place for his car by using the area in front of the gate to my driveway. apparently, when one complements restored testarossa sundays by purchasing a new maserati spyder, it comes with a special permit to inconvenience other people. [- rant detailing why the neighbor should afford a garage before securing another italian dream goes here -] over the course of the last week, chuck has noticed that at least four cars on the street have had their tires slashed overnight. run flats or not, i'd rather not stay parked out there. it's midnight and i am suddenly torn between acting spellbound by this beautiful machine or tripping my neighbor's alarm. perhaps i let it go again? how about i wait until the impractical hour of 4:00am and request the keys to move it myself?

it's been over three weeks since white knuckling american monstrosity down the 101 freeway for the privilege of flaking out in front of resident doctor #4, and... well, who am i now and what is this new thing i am driving? how did i opt for the vehicle which has the ability to make entire groups of people standing on a sidewalk turn around to watch me drive by? i don't know. what i do know is that it will not stand for introversion. random guys want to know and take it upon themselves to unbutton it for a better look. interested people have no problem tapping on the window to get my attention. "can we ask you about your car," they say, but are never quite sure what they want to know. i show it to them- it hasn't been a problem. in three weeks, i have had more random conversations with strangers than in the cumulative time spanning this blog. consider all of those travels- and all of those airplane passenger seatmates who were automatically erased before even stowing their baggage. when these conversations with strangers end, it feels a bit strange- what just happened? why so free without an act or agenda? oh, don't make me concede how it isn't so much about the car and is, in fact... mm-hmm.

easily, one million tasks have succeeded since last standing behind resident doctor #4's chair, but how does one carry out a lifetime of broken esteem and then return exuding complete confidence? accepting that anorexia (and its subsequent 'life force') has been given the keys to my philosophy, since seeing him last, life has essentially been perfect. now, thrown ahead again, it’s a bit upsetting, but accepted. what is lacking is the discomfort detailed in living without incident- this afterward without stirring up an intense process of production really bothers me. just like after the conversations with strangers, there is a big loss stemming from the missing obsession.

had i let go of the dots on the rug in resident doctor #4's blue room long enough to drop the constellation, other adaptations may have been found. this is precisely why i only look up every other month. utopian impracticality fears the concession and will neither celebrate his tidying nor tightening. i fear its fury but occasionally wonder if the fight will exist only in enduring the freedom from consequence. resident doctor #4 has obviously done much more than study how to hone in on my every tic.

[this post probably ends here]

what does that say? it states i am not nervous about anything other than not being nervous— and i am really not too nervous about that, either. life predictably gets better in chunks. percentages change and threats adapt. if given a voice, anorexia would not appreciate the undoing of problems which translate into its shield. inevitably, the facing of eating disorder without those distracting pawns will be frightening but, what if resident doctor #4’s restructuring has secretly been tying anorexia down? its strength is familiar, but having accepted this lifetime epic, i fear the potential for an unplanned and disappointing finale. eating disorder's backwards habit can go to hell but i want anorexia's risk to continue. our love affair must last until our own acerbic end. though gorgeous and brilliant, resident doctor #4 should not be given a chance in trying to romance me out of the hungry box- so, i had best keep constant.

consider: the potential for anorexia to get stabbed as rd#4 fights those remaining pawns. will there be an instant death, or an enraged demeanor with acquired benefit of wound-inspired adrenaline? well, the end will neither be boring nor soon.

AND i am so tired of trying to formulate this damn post. as each subsequent day passes and life flourishes, this written construction falls further and further behind. for some reason, i think it is required to incorporate all "activities in which i do not ordinarily participate, but recently did" and explain how they have played out. well, screw it. managing DAILY LIFE is fine and not near as weird as it seems it should be.

did you tell rd#4 that you bought a car?:
reluctantly, and he was made to ask. i wasn't going to easily offer it up after the symbolism relating "wanting to trade in an old car" to "how i might be gearing up to trade in my anorexic body." we had assorted topics which spanned the course of several weeks, so revelations were glossed over. the point mostly lies in releasing ownership of the old car and not so much in buying this new one, so only part of the process is complete. still, i am not looking forward to being assaulted with more of his cold hard metaphor.

how are classes going?:
this is the third week and i have already taken the final exams for two courses. none of the work was required until december, but it is good to get them out of the way as other classes begin on monday. (multiple schools with various schedules.) for the most part, both programs are tolerable, but i feel scared to be around students with such limited life experience. their combination of youth and lack of education- oh, i am so old -comes across as dangerous, but this also holds true to the older enrollees. why should i give their opinion, influence, or evaluation ANY rank when it is based on nothing? this IS rocket science AND being learned at a prestigious university, but for god's sake, people look at all projects which require more than simple regurgitation as a great undertaking. if a question is not taken from a sentence directly out of a textbook, students have conversations about how subjects on the test were not covered in our readings.

i also enrolled in personal interest classes at a community college level, only to challenge aspects pertaining to mental health- variations of the word shyness and the like. never again. what a cattle maze. get them in! get them out! whenever i lived outside of southern california, the local community colleges functioned for (gasp!) their communities. seventy year old women took sculpture and talked of colorful younger years when they researched graduate degrees in rome... students had used the system for summer opportunities to augment their future rather than having it act as their first or only choice. in southern california, it's just... not pleasant. the population is too densely packed and area ripe with diverse activities for this type of system to hold the same cohesive value as it would outside of a metropolis.

you could have strapped your experimental aircraft to the top of the car and driven it to california.:
yes, the lunacy did cross my mind. i have no intention of ever assembling it, but also think the day after it is sold i would come to regret not having the opportunity. where would i store or use it?

where are the damn pictures of your trip?:
in the damn camera. though i tried to stay off of the interstate system and adhere to two lane roads or state highways, i still found no reason, but tried to document the in between. the camera is dying so photographs aren't worth the first glance. this is the odometer with only six miles on it, here we are driving behind another semi- really, who cares?!

questioning the most expensive day of your life...:
it wasn't so much about the purchases, rather, i chose to take and benefit from a few financial losses:

1) i decided not to renew a tenant's lease on my property in japan and have challenged myself to use the residence at least two days a month. the rent on a 3LDK apartment in tokyo is significant, but why not? it may be unnecessary but what if it's great? then again, it may be ridiculous and regrettable. i'll find out and decide from there, instead of deciding prior to the experience.

2) last year i purchased a house in santa barbara with another person, have now just proceeded to buy out his half, requested he take his physician's salary... and leave my life.

3) the architecture of the home is 'spanish mission style.' its design has allowed for an older couple to rent out a sequestered portion of this house, opposite a walled garden, for many years. 'they came with it' so to speak. this arrangement was more of a benefit than deterrent because rents in santa barbara are some of the highest in the nation. 'we bought a house which immediately supplied us with a huge monthly payment.' it is another loss of several thousands of dollars per month, but i have chosen to not renew their lease.

4) i have taken on the responsibility of a profoundly gifted child who has exceptional needs. i wish to afford him all favorable conveniences and my involvement offers him access to the world. in no way does that mean to give him everything-- allowing opportunity might be a better statement. perhaps he will come to live with me permanently? my life and home both need to be willing to adapt for his decision.

how are your relatives?:
how depressing to constantly strive, succeed, and badger myself about not working up to potential in an effort to overachieve... and then visit those people. yes, those people. it was a struggle to hold all opinion in when faced with their incomprehensible levels of complacency. i cannot return! [dammit, consistently keeping composure means a future invitation.] i hate their agog! the wide eyes! the wow! i am disgusted by their racism and odd combinations of unconfirmed fears. nothing over the last year has infuriated me as much as how those people are incapacitated by risk and seem drugged by the scent of a big break. it's as though they never see the little things, which should be amassed or tended to, drifting away.

my relatives knew i had just purchased a car and would be driving through the area on the return to california. their definition of 'being in the area' amounted to a several hour detour, but it was still expected i visit. [[[**imagine visiting people who live the life of rice and chevrolet-- which is where i come from -- but only having the option of showing up in something much nicer. it would never be my intention to flaunt in front of them, but every part of my life was incomprehensibly grand and excessive in comparison. this is where anorexia comes from- growing up poor and feeling undeserving now to have in the face of people who have not. having anything- food, options, ability. starve it down. hide it in a bank. give it away. perpetually return purchased items to a store. try to have but then guiltily purge it back. i don't know the words but do understand this visit could somehow be dissected to perfectly articulate the root of my problem.**]]] the experience of 'anorexia's restriction trying to seep into multiple areas of life' stacked next to the realization that my vehicular version of 'nothing' fit their version of 'the incredible' turned it all on. this particular weekend was a relentless clenching ouch, until forcing esteem with the mantra that we do not all play on equal levels of life.

one of my relatives recently traded up to a new car and it...

okay, here's the rule:
one should never opt to drive an inexpensive domestic car without first agonizing over the vehicle's notoriously poor nhtsa crash test ratings AND stupefyingly quick depreciation AND also allow oneself to be guided into a five year loan after investigating affordability calculations AND yet sign on to a critical interest rate *higher than seen on a common credit card* AND be proud of the transaction AND tell people about it, alright!?

after all of that, i still forgot to add a comment on emissions standards and taking fuel economy into account prior to the purchase.

adhering to the rule allows for your continued amazement:
"the car i own is now worth more today than on the day i bought it."

any questions?
it is not difficult to suck it up and make the right choice.

after seeing what i can do, why does my family still insist on perpetuating the typical scenario? in the case of large dollar transactions, why do they keep falling for the "lower upfront price tag?" why are they not organized enough to *want* to do the research? after investigation, the fearful 'faith' in numbers turns to fact rather than ventures into luck. why not spend some time in order to rake in a huge savings in the end?

skip ahead to the:
"we also don't know how anyone could afford to buy a home like yours in santa barbara." well, they don't have to worry about that, do they?

"we don't know why you decided to go back to school or what you are going to do with all of these strange degrees." implement it in the same vein as the rest of my education.

"your only option will be to move to florida and work for nasa." oh my good grief x the 1000 other things wrong with that statement, followed by another confounding idea: not all people attend school for the sole purpose of getting a job.

"we don't know why anyone would ever want to leave this country." what's that droning sound? is that humming sound masking their words a psychotic episode? am i promoting the distraction? are these people helping to facilitate my hedging into the land of schizophrenia? can i passionately say, "these people are making me crazy?" or, do i need to promote a deranged level of personal responsibility and suggest that it's just me?: "i do not have the capacity to maintain sanity when inundated with ineffective and appalling philosophy."

AND, oh my mmmphing god:
"we can't imagine living in california and having only mexican food to eat because it's made by dirty mexicans so none of the food is sanitary."

i then choked and started the drive home-- not stopping until rain and hypnogogia forced me into basic travel accommodations south of kansas city. a pedestrian hampton inn. friendly night clerk. antiseptic and perfect. cnn. around the clock coffee. heavenly shower. split a granny smith but was too sewn up to access the free wireless. a never ending rush of distraction gushed from the bathtub. sleep was uncomfortable but nightmares were welcome to resolve some conflict. the first day and a half on the road was long and felt more isolated than it needed to be. it was sad to return to my own house of hell, having confirmed that should anything go wrong, the 'ultimate safety net of family' honestly does not exist for me.

there is no tidy way to proceed here, but it's unfortunately not chaotic, either. i recently set a whirlwind into motion and then prepared to stab back the mess, but becoming irate over the way anxiety functions killed all ability to worry. yeah, now what? anxiety can’t even be bothered to shrug and this is such a great loss- racing thoughts were one third of my life.

at least twenty projects are currently in motion, and i enjoy juggling the actual risks, but know what fills this hole left by anxiety best. perhaps, and though sounding wrong, the best idea is to abuse the perennial substitute rather than to avoid it.

...probably no chance this bill which shows a $680 fine on chuck's library card is a visual disturbance, eh? perhaps this demand for payment is merely a side effect from recently testing out that prescription? no, of course not.

one phone call.
one directed sentence.
chuck’s university library fine has been charmed down to $49.

fine. everyone on the outside is drawn to me, so why not volunteer time today and snarkily speak the gravity stopping lines of a public service announcement? fine. fine. fine. i'll do it. read to your kids, take them to a museum, discover science, get off your ass and go for a walk... mm-hmm, like that.

later this afternoon, a crew is scheduled to gather interviews and footage related to the hybrid hacking project. what a great day for reality television. our experiments are on the verge of completion, but only one person (out of a group of four) recognized a level of importance with technical research inclusion, the peer review process, and verbal presentation. well, good for him! when the fundamentals had originally been mentioned, the remaining three participants actually looked scared. research papers?! editing?! lecturing?! god no! tonight, after hearing of lucrative opportunities not requiring mere technicians, each can collect their coat and take that pathetic title home to their resume. two of us will form a partnership and equally share the credit.

consider: how long might it take a technician to understand this loss?

consider: the inevitable 'they cannot have because i am a bitch' rather than 'they cannot have because each neglected to take even one opportunity available to them.'

i have acted on an independent trial of effexor rather than taking the abilify which i have been writing about. well, either way, acting on a trial of any prescription which acts to alter my mood confirms trust.

- effexor supplies more entertainment and electricity than fear
- i have no concerns over the increased hunger
- 'electricity' ('brain zaps') are tiny shocks from the medicine

- ingested merely 1/10th of resident doctor #4's suggested dose
- immediately sat down with a book for distraction

- experienced auditory and sensory hallucinations within a few minutes
- hallucinations were realistic and lasted at least ten seconds
- i definitely heard and felt the sensations
- upon realizing they were not happening, each abruptly ended

- this was not frightening, not even afterward... just odd
- the hallucinations were even soothing until the true awareness

- later in the day, auditory hallucinations appeared alone
- i considered the sounds to be real and wondered from where they came
- identified that, given my location, these sounds were impossible
- the noise was instantly invalidated and passed off as medicine-related

it was at this point that fear arrived because that hallucination did not immediately end. i thought it should stop upon confirming it could not be real. (?) those perceived sounds incorporated doom, paranoia, and persecution, but i could not discern the precise detail of what i was hearing. [an example: a quiet, hard-to-discern whisper, not a clear speaking voice.] this was extremely distracting-- its 'realness' was hard to shake. it was not until several minutes later that the disturbance begin to subside.

consider: high emotionality, my current vulnerability.
consider: my former isolation, was i possibly perceiving language?

- later i experienced minor visual hallucinations while driving
- i saw cars far ahead of mine on the freeway
consider: a light distortion? reflections from heat?
- this was similar to the mirage effect seen on a hot freeway
- might have been, but perhaps not related to the medicine at all

consider: how effexor jacks up my metabolism, leaving ravenous hunger unfulfilled... these hallucinations may be related to simple dehydration from how effexor increases my metabolism. dehydration stemming from anorexia nervosa has caused these sensations in the past.

consider: deciphering the hallucinations, their interesting translations.
consider: relating them to childhood, positive/enlightening experience.

consider: the fear, though this is now an understood paradoxical reaction.

things change.
all good.
skip ahead.

i need to act on the medication trial and get a dusting of that pill into my body- but how? this afternoon involves driving from los angeles to santa barbara and back, and then exams are scheduled later- so, today is completely out. tomorrow night finds the weekly 'experimental hybrid vehicle project'* at my house. with several people on my property and needing to maintain a presentable attire and mood, this project also requires the ability to think clearly around machinery. it is unclear how the medicine will present itself and this uncertainty is keeping it in its container.

----------
* computer hacking and engine modification investigational experiment for the purpose of substantially increasing mpg over the reported figures submitted by the manufacturer to the EPA.
----------

consider how it appears 'too much life is in the way' to proceed with a trial.

true, i need to postpone at least three current projects for the remainder to keep their proper focus, rather than louse around merely searching for something to organize. this weekend even finds the DAILY LIFE overlapping itself. do i travel to japan for a dinner, or accept invitations and fly to new york for fashion week events? one choice does not exactly disrupt the other, rather, they conflict with a third contracted obligation. also, someone is set to move in with me (rather than "move into my home") this weekend. the transition need not be tentative. if this first weekend would ordinarily be about establishing boundaries, should that process begin at home (safety, suffocation, "these rules are too strong"), or while together in the flurry of a city (constant unpredictability, high potential for turmoil, "phew, at least our home will be safe and have structure")?

lost time never went missing but the facts occasionally change sides- from 'wasted' to 'event' to 'finding the beneficial' and now it somewhat hangs around 'unfortunate but definitely overstuffed.'

consider how when there was a slate free from activity, a trial in medication was never attempted for it would simply disrupt the nervous arrangement. interference and temporary change would have caused an invisible, though very real, distress. what was so important to reinforce then? if i had neither obligation, nor place to go, what *exactly* was a trial going to sabotage aside from safety? if after any type of attempt, there still remains the ability to return to an unruffled hole, why is it always such a problem to go out and take a look?

consider the importance of the emotional angle of this pill.

it has been three or four weeks since its prescription for anger was doled out. understand how the emotion should begin before swallowing the medicine but only precontemplation and intricate dissection thrive. i acknowledged the laundry list of reasons to be infuriated over this trial, but also left no pen marks next to any consideration when scanning over the notes. instead, i see myself slowly circling the entire list, yet backing off and studying it like a calculated predator. there appears to be no intention of breaking potential arousements down and placing what should be a common checkmark along the way- just get ready, get set, and go for the kill. there will be one opportunity to beat the episode to death and this black and white thinking prepares for a win or total loss.

what will happen when untethered? consider the science of risk- the split second of a fight when it seems one may actually lose, or the intense mental pain of enduring the flip side of sensation. consider the effort it takes to press the panic button when someone who uses your safety net might be watching. consider the dead calm of the end and understand the perpetual embarrassment of success. consider the depression found in the afterward when accepting that nothing, in any realm, is ever difficult except for deciding to act out the first step. consider returning home victorious, but with ripped clothing and metallic smears on the cheek, during the theatrical perfection of fashion week. well, if you're going for that look, then... hmmm. consider how unsophisticated people compare the field of their meaningless lives to other's meaningless lives, rather than first comparing the level of degree.

so, why rush to act on potentially incapacitating myself with a medicine when obviously its purpose is multifacted? the pill has yet to metabolize or excite discomfort, but it has already functioned to bring many issues into focus.

i just purposely took 'one wrong' on my first exam in an attempt to bypass that obscenity of having to keep 100% of points in 100% of classes. right before doing so, there was a concern this could accelerate anxiety- what if i put myself in the place of needing to obsessively keep 100% to counter this action, or perhaps just to maintain a security? though the true answer of more or less difficulty won't reveal itself until the next exam, i feel the release rather than that of tightening up. [release: not a very eloquent definition, but something like the feeling of 'needing-to-purge to finalize what was an intense situation.']

i think the sensation confirms that anxiety relating to 'keeping as perfect of a graded total as possible' is gone. the only problem is that i have no intention of fighting through the, um... subsequent recipe for having one's cake without commitment.

ah, i keep forgetting about that damn pill.

some things never change, part I:
i feel too shy to post a bio on an online class forum and have spent the week oscillating between "the meaningless v. potential implications." when setting one's own definition, showing the human aspect can open the door, but then again, it is a dent in the armor. how i initially represent myself is extremely important.

consider: offer the same bio as used from summer term?
consider: how i don't feel like the vibrant person who wrote it.
consider: marking it minor and not wasting time?
consider: offering no color, thus blocking off interest and communication?

do not say:
- i deal with disabling anxiety disorder, often feel perilously shy, and the tuition afforded here will offer multiple educations. in addition to the subject, this course will facilitate watching the processing of anxieties, specifically, how this festival of mine relates to interpersonal communication. yuck and yawn.

answer:
- my name is _______.
- i live in ________.
- this is a personal interest course for me.




some things never change, part II:
when our professor posted a two sentence notice yesterday about how proofreading accuracy counted for points in her class, i found her four misspelled words (which would have easily been caught by the same spell checking add-on she suggested we use) to be more than mildly agitating.

it will not require a pill to invite the experience of anger into my life, but i need to test out that tablet resident doctor #4 sent home a few weeks ago.

it's scary. this medicine will dramatically do something, but the outcome is unconfirmed. it may break up the complex system of rules in which i live or it may not. suffering through a paradoxical reaction is a concern. agitation? brain fog? i would rather not sleep for 18 hours, get up to use the bathroom, and then spend an additional 12 in bed like when testing a sliver of trazodone for insomnia. from the research available, and in listening to other personal experiences, it appears the medicine trial can skyrocket anxiety and put me in a state of constant motion. i barely sit still as it is. i have fall semester course work now, which is practically the only insecure place where nerves can intensify, but even enduring fake anxiety will feel authentic.

what else could be blown out of proportion by increased anxiety? the upcoming process of selling my old car? perhaps not. that car is such a dog, i have been home for several days but only went to collect it from long term parking at LAX last night (-and have been considering taking a $3500 loss by selling it to carmax for less than its private party value).

consider: convenience! laziness!
see, i'm fine.

daily life interfered with the medicine trial the first week. i was busy and couldn't take the chance of an interference. the second week when i could have tested it contained 3000 miles of transcontinental driving. it was neither a practical time nor argued. the fall term began this last monday-- so this week is out. the next few days are flexible enough. resident doctor #4 wants me to test three days on, and then continue for three more, but that time supplement it with a minor amount of ativan. ativan, an anti-anxiety tablet, can work to keep manufactured akathisias away. [akathisia, a side effect of certain drugs, but commonly seen stemming from antipsychotic medications: urge to keep moving or tensing up, facial tics]

oh god, here comes an alternative form of the what if: this trial will amp up my metabolism and promote weight loss without trying, which in turn will further anorexia and inspire more loss. will it make me weight gain without ingesting additional calories? what if it promotes hormonal bodily changes? all of these 'what ifs' excite a rigidly efficient dissociation and will perpetuate a bitchy anorexia. what if this pill lacks all novelty? will i be bothered that nothing physical happened on its own? will i purposefully fast longer to grasp that loss of potential?

this experience is going to be tumultuous, but the 1% chance the trial has to be beneficial functions to keep it in consideration.

after some thought and a newly found attitude, it has been decided that the previously mentioned course in conflicting language will remain. an experiment rather than a challenge, could it even be a form of entertainment? my presented situation will appear alternative and obnoxious and... and so what?

the first week of the term is over and has revealed a substantial problem with one of my classes. a portion of the objective is in direct conflict with illness and this fact had me living in the sky for most of the afternoon. the voice of anorexia restricts not only intake, but the language relating to the world of food. the vocabulary of consumption exists for other people, but most of it cannot be attached to me. how am i to release this trap in order to complete required papers? in the particular way the rule of language applies to this situation, it has no exception.

one of the previous posts hints at licking the flesh of an apple, feeling bad, and how i dreamed of incorrectly directing frustration toward the fruit rather than myself/anorexia. it expressed fear of ingesting anything nutritionally beneficial as doing so would inevitably provoke the intense, electrically lit up and hot experience of menstruation.

consider: in the future, will i be able to interpret what is hidden here?

the written detail of the earlier post is intentionally stunted and convoluted. while intertwined with a second subject of biblical misinterpretations, the possibility is offered that those words may not even be representing a food. a constant effort to speak around a puzzle- the actual sin is the disobedience and not a fruit but i take the hit either way. twisted talk works for the blog, but i will not find myself writing in six different inks per assignment.

:/

four days of terror and sweat-- perhaps i could invalidate the hysteria before deciding to automatically abandon the course? right now i am in a panic over this. i don't care about the majority of what the eating disorder tarnishes. if i am going to let it take the body, it is allowed the leverage to break it down first. in that case, an external impenetrable wall to protect its goal makes sense- its social isolation, the destruction of all forms of libido. future lack of cognition is an issue, and now this- language could turn into a disability. i need to find a way to remain functionally bilingual and not give up the common communication. an attempt to keep anorexia out of 'unrelated' interests should be made. [anorexia as life force- it went from primary food avoidance to something which now needs to restrict the way i manage everything (money, pleasure...) in order for the starvation to thrive.]

a simple short assignment is due tonight (psychology of choice, influence of decisions) and of course, food is a constant in most student's lives, so the questions investigate 'how we shop' and 'what we eat.' this is an extremely easy submission, used to start the collective dialogue, and worth minimal points. i know the words and what to say, but doubt i could provide an answer without causing myself a retaliatory pain. on this blog, maneuvering with ludicrous neologisms can augment the subject, but the real world needs to neither hear of, nor understand their use and amusement.

what are the options here? break the rules of language and then get beaten to hell by anorexia? quit, and state that i want to simply take a class and not use it to challenge numerous issues outside of the material? if this assignment was merely uncomfortable it would be one thing- but the way i cope tends to deliver me to the emergency room.

"..if i signed my name to something i must suck it up, no matter how mentally or physically painful.." this perspective should not be maintained but without it, the future appears dangerous.

consider: how to quit without guilt?
consider: how to just scrape by rather than overdo?

[later:]

i just withdrew from a course and the horrible feeling of 'not doing that which i set out to do' is stronger than being relieved of the burden. this was extremely healthy and is a very big deal but i fear letting things go could easily become habitual.

[later:]

thank god i dropped that course. i am actually happy about this.