flagrant disregard

consider: gone to shoot the map?
consider: inventing one's own way to manipulate glass?

today is only the fourth day of my summer, except i am so bored i can barely survive. sure, a packed work schedule remains, but i really miss the hyperstructure offered by insisting on enrolling in too many courses during the traditional school year.

what i think i am going to do is enroll in a summer art class. glass sculpture! i don't know if the medium is intense enough to hold my interest, or if it's just pedestrian, but i want to try it out. i'm also scared out of my mind about this.

being summer session, classes would be held daily. i still neither do 'showing up daily' nor 'allowing what cannot be evaluated to be awarded a grade' very well. "no one should be allowed to tell me whether or not my personal creation represents my intention" etc...

aside from private classes, i can find no such course in glass until fall semester. later in the year, my attitude and level of authority is not going to be open to involving myself in anything as useless as the art of glass or gas plasma design. as for a private class, well, that wouldn't facilitate as much social involvement.

i need to find a way to do this because it would be fun, and i don't know the last decision made based on whether or not the activity was fun. my decisions are always determined by the competition, achievement, or compensation offered. a class is already expected to fulfill its subject (art) and an alternate requirement (improve issues of social anxiety), but whimsy? whimsy is definitely new.

consider: will i find a way to make a competition out of a lackadaisical studio art course?

consider: manipulating hot glass isn't exactly narcotic.

consider: why i don't feel embarrassed to admit i can find time and want to include myself in an activity that isn't driven in accomplishment.

the punch line will be:

i got forced into taking a trip to alaska.
i developed pneumonia.
i died.

AND,
my mother will be too goddamn ________ to accept her role in this,

AND,
i will take on this blame because i was the one who could not thwart her manipulation.


for a multitude of reasons, i always have difficulty going to the doctor to be seen for a physical problem. after the obvious issue of 'never feeling thin enough' to be prodded by a physician, there is always the case as to whether or not i am sick enough to present an illness. honestly, with my warped tolerance for endurance, i never know what symptom truly warrants attention. since many of my physical concerns stem from anorexia (and depending on whether or not its motivation is active, could viewed as self inflicted) it is ridiculous to treat a problem while still intending to hold onto its cause. the eating disorder also pushes the philosophy that unless i am seconds away from death, this body never deserves care.

i think i have or am developing pneumonia. none of the sloppy symptoms of the common cold remain, but i now present that which points to a respiratory infection. symptoms of solicitous concern include bloody sputum, difficulty in anything other than shallow breathing, terrific headaches, and fever alternating with very precise chills. the blood initially summoned worries of an esophageal tear, but streaks only show up in samples of phlegm, not respiratory droplets.

what's weird is how suddenly none of the 'dysmorphia' or confliction listed in a previous paragraph apply. neither issues of size nor esteem block the way to an urgent care appointment. i am just flat out scared to go to the doctor.

what is it going to mean to have this diagnosis confirmed?

pneumonia would prove that i cannot stand up for myself and am weak in the face of that which i should not be. having been hospitalized multiple times this last spring, i had dealt with a tube down my nose, could not efficiently digest food, and was finally building back some strength. i know i was supposed to somehow obviate this recent trip to alaska, but in not being confined to a hospital bed, was also expected to arrive to appease my mother.

"i may have seriously jeopardized my health simply due to the fear that another person may become irritated with me" makes no sense right now. at one time i would have said a new statement or attitude such as this was arrogant on my part. since i treated my existence as meaningless, i could be everything to everyone no matter the toll on myself.

skip ahead to the now:

i am notorious for stomping on undeveloped individuals like my mother, but she is a parent, and i don't know how to break the rules. i don't ever want to disrespect her, but i don't know how to both immunize myself and honor her position.

surprise, my doctor is not giving me any grief about starting zyprexa. prior to leaving on vacation, he had mentioned how he eventually wanted me to try it out for one solid seven day trial, and then if it were tolerable, continue with a three month stint. now, however that could be considered possible, is insane in itself. [if he actually thinks that i am going to queue at a pharmacy to fill a prescription for stigma *and* then pay for that antipsychotic with my own funds *and* then bring that body balloonifying crap into my home *and* have it find a way into my system... well, he's much sicker than me then, isn't he?] how odd that the subject of zyprexa didn't even arise, as now would be the time for a trial. i am technically contracted to the world though neither implications nor projects are urgent.

this lack of pressing for a medicine trial is surprising because i told my doctor that i have no fucking reason to to be alive. he usually counters that attitude by yanking open a desk drawer to produce a prescription for immediate sedation and elevated mood. i was supposed to be looking forward to experiencing auditory hallucinations this week or next, but since that entertainment happened mid-vacation, there is no incentive to be alert for the rest of the summer.

well, hello, Post Trip Depression!
glad to see some things never change.

our appointment basically touched upon whether or not the auditory experience was frightening, and then also about my mother's complete ignorance to the foundations of my illness.

i told of a few 'food scenarios' and 'meal scenes' which occurred over the last week, but now wish to have left them in history. resident doctor #4 was floored, and did interrupt and present that he wanted to be neutral in regard to my mother, but was clearly (and continually) aghast when hearing about her actions. he came to the conclusion that my mother has had a profound interest in trying to avoid knowing anything about my problem.

to put the above into perspective, after a few successful attempts at following a food plan on vacation, i mentioned to her that my stomach was not digesting the food. i specifically told her how it was not leaving my stomach after prolonged periods of time, and i felt as though i was going to unintentionally throw up upon coughing or after drinking carbonated beverages. my mother nodded and suggested i start on a laxative regimen.

[????????????????????]

first of all, does she not know that a laxative acts much lower in the gastrointestinal tract? second, what is she doing even using the word 'laxative' around an eating disordered person? do i not have a history of laxative abuse and addiction which resulted in physical damage? was i not under a physician's care for these problems while on her insurance policy and living in her home?!

my mother was once a director of nursing at a hospital but, strangely enough, needed me to educate her on very basic absorption complications and entry-level gastroenterology. it wasn't that she didn't remember-- there were facts she flat out did not know! it bothers me to the point of no words how this woman should not be notably confused when talking about upper/lower gastrointestinal system functioning. it was just over the top that she suggested i poison or inflict myself with a former abuse.

how to appropriately articulate an anger which does not know how to use its voice? how do i deal with the disappointments experienced over the last week?

"it's frustrating" is all i write lately. i hate it because it lacks the capacity to illustrate the enormity of the complications. perhaps i should type: it's frustrating that occasionally when talking about these situations with my family members, i lose my speech. seriously, the resultant voice is somewhat a combination of nervous laughter, fear, shock, and substantial grief all rolled up into a split second of verbalized "ha-hh." in being 'frustrated' i don't want to breathe, blink, know, think, or live. i just want to implode and snap into dust; or pass out, yet feel the heft hit the ground, and then wake up having just been born elsewhere.

AND my illness doesn't 'work fast enough' to get the effect and distract from the pain of this depression in my head. the blacklights of dehydration will not be on hand until later. the whitelights of starvation are at least two days away. i keep thinking of how resident doctor #4 was at a loss for words today. ordinarily, and even if patronizing, there is a quick fix statement which could work to help understand or smooth over the dumb things people do or say.

AND how is this that i am fending off alternate examples of self injurious behavior and 'the discharge of frustration' already when this 'frustration' was expected? i do crave beating myself to 'feel' that lovely numb dissociation and subsequent bubbling sensation of physical reawakening. that physical pain does its job.

AND yet again, i don't want any of it.

i want to be able to shrug it all off and say, "man, who the hell cares? this stupid visit with my mom is now over. i'm home. i'm fine. calm down. i don't think this vacation left me that upset, so why in the hell am i so unwound right now?"

back to the grind
back to the world
what's going to happen?

brain says: "nothing but accolades."

it doesn't matter as to whether or not i know the previous sentence is true, it feels weird to keep it up there. damn it. after a year of stabbing around a label of arrogance, it deflated into confidence. AND carrying that confidence around isn't nearly the big deal that i thought it was to be. i don't mind alluding confidence out there because it becomes an effective shield, but it feels wrong to mention it in here. obviously, if i need to blog myself through a problem or process, any theme of confidence sounds like a joke.

today marks the beginning of several projects. it's not even been eight hours since arriving home. i'm scared. i'll do well. i can't even frikkin' see or walk straight yet, have an appointment with resident doctor #4 this morning and an inevitable trip to urgent care, but... it should be okay.

"it should be okay" -- why is that still so difficult to type?

(productive) project #1: ecological project
(productive) project #2: travel project

(personal) project #3: restart the food plan
(personal) project #4: rd#4 is going to push for zyprexa today

other than the trial of zyprexa, i am actually looking forward to all of it, including (re)starting the food plan. after dealing with my mom and her need for me to justify her food, the royal caribbean cruise line buffet dining rooms, and a million other complications, this food plan should be able to thrive soon. i hope so, because i feel like such sick crap for a variety of reasons.

i took amtrak's 'thruway bus' service from vancouver to seattle, and then boarded their daily coast starlight train to los angeles.

this overland trip could have been worse, but i was the one who signed on to it, so... from the door of the hotel in vancouver, to where i stepped foot into my house in los angeles, the combination of cabs and amtrak components took exactly 42 hours.

i opted to reserve a coach seat in advance (rather than to quadruple the fare for the privacy of a sleeper car) and my seatmate was great, but i also knocked back three doses of ativan while on board. it has been difficult for me to break down and even 'allow' myself three doses of a benzodiazepine over the course of several months. in a traveling situation like this, i would ordinarily want to be in complete control of my surroundings-- but things have changed. i didn't see a need to be nervous and acutely aware of every nuance or view the train ride provided. after it was clear that i was in a position to relax, and that my seatmate was protective rather than a threat, i thought, "why not speed up the trip through medicated sedation?" the risk of swollen breasts and ankles-- which are the side effects that keep me from using ativan -- ordinarily reveal themselves a few days later. my physician will be pleased that i investigated these pills outside of my restrictive environment.

nothing went wrong during the amtrak route, and the scenery was good, but i wouldn't recommend the journey for someone like me. what amounts to 'merely sitting on a train for a very long time' seems like nothing to endure, but my body hates it. the train air was too dry. maintaining hydration was virtually impossible and as my nutritional balance declines, water starts tasting like liquid metal. my lips had split, and knuckles broke themselves open to reveal atmosphere-inflicted cuts and ooze. i'll not go on about anorectic bodies and how sitting for any period of time turns the tailbone and lower torso to a scabbed over mess.

i am having a difficult time typing right now from the way dehydration dries my eyes, but i also have a full blown cold-- replete with squeaky voice, popping ears, sore throat, and various aches and pains. considering that i have acknowledged these wrinkles of discomfort off of the blog, might this cold be severe? many instances over the last year document how i don't acknowledge discomfort stemming from a physical ailment until i pass out onto the floor. this 'cold' nonsense pisses me off because i haven't had a cold develop since may of 1991. i can get to the stage where a cold is on the verge of staying for the night, but then a second tissue goes wasted.

...but the junk science is fantastic! let's put on the stupid hat and liken 'never having a cold' to how anorexia brings my body down to the bare minimum, essentially intensifying the immune system and thwarting any germ's ability to thrive. (why not? there's one idiot out there who will read this, be completely blown away by the idea, and send me endless e-mail on the topic.)

consider the hurt feelings if it were true: perhaps my anorexia is not as strong as it has been in my history if i am able to catch a cold. if i were healthier, my immune system would not be as hypervigilant. a germ or virus could then acquire a foothold into my system.

there is no incentive to simply state that this cold was due to living on a cruise ship with 2200 strangers, breathing in a lot of stale air over the course of a week, and also going out to stomp about in the arctic air. <--- plus, long ago when i was virtually housebound and only stepped foot out of my house every few months, people thought that i would have caught a cold on each excursion. that was never the case. sure, it's backwards, but this ability to fend off the common cold is another piece of ammunition for illness. "i'm strong."

consider how the thought must develop: anorexia provides stress and obsession but is not making me sick. its process teaches me to endure and also protects me from physical ailments. this eating disorder really does make me stronger than most people. ha, those poor mortals! i won't even let my guard down to even catch a cold. or perhaps, said sarcastically, i'm so damn skinny that germs can't even feed off of me.

consider: how all of the symptoms of a common cold are now a threat to my food plan. how a runny nose can be seen as a reason to starve. how, for me, to have a cold which is now entering its second day, is actually jolting around other problems.

[vancouver, bc]

- successfully directed the insanity tour through alaska
- rented a car and drove my mother to the yukon for whoknowswhy
- survived a royal caribbean cruise from seward to vancouver
- endured endless tourist-stamped souvenir port towns

- had a better time than expected (saw abundant wildlife, including moose, puffins, several orcas and one amazingly close humpback whale; my mother mentioned that she now prefers to travel independently and not like one of The Sheep; eating disorder obviously gets its own raging blog entry because it was impossible to adhere to my food plan, but i lived through it, etc...)

- also had much worse experiences than predicted (this trip was to be very frustrating for me, so much that i would not be able to articulate it without the use of an injurious behavior. it was also expected that i would perceive auditory hallucinations after this trip. unfortunately, a hallucination occurred on the second night. {see previous post: june 9th} i still conclude that this 'sound' is beneficial because it actually justifies a tremendous level of trauma but don't know what to think this time. this trip has had its annoying moments, but it certainly hasn't been traumatic at all.)


puffins-- kenai fjords national park, alaska

AND now for my next trick:

only thirteen more hours until i board amtrak to endure a forty hour train ride to los angeles.

[vancouver, bc]

holy chow... while my mother perused delicate french tarts and flaky chicken pastries, i spotted a perfect mangosteen at the granville market in vancouver.

it's difficult locating this imported fruit, and when found outside of southeast asia, often it is inedible. apparently import restrictions on mangosteens have recently been relaxed in the u.s., and these rules, in companion with new crops being farmed in puerto rico, should help it become easier to obtain.

a mangosteen may be a common phenomenon in vancouver, but it ordinarily is an airline flight out of our reach. my mother gasped in delight at the assembly of foreign fruits, reminisced about our vacation in thailand, and then proceeded to purchase a common bakery muffin.

this is where my perspective is 100% incompatible with her by design. where can one not buy a muffin? when one is on their third meal before noon and standing in a market known for diversity, how is it one decides the typical muffin gets the nod? i guess i should not be the person who disdains 'normal' habits regarding food but since i refuse to the point of frailty, i understand the unconscious dynamics that direct dietary habits and also how the body will perpetuate the psychology behind the choice.

"i should have bought a bag of those mangosteens," she said later in the day. "i can't get them where i live."

it's unbelievable how she wasn't even aware that she had been standing adjacent to a situation of restriction and that it would eventually unfold or envelope her mind. what a strangely unguarded way to live. does this person survive life without strategy? does she live so freely to never think to counter and regulate a potential obsession in advance? does she not know she could demand authority over internal cues and the unwanted grief of deprivation?

consider how she audibly spent the rest of the afternoon disappointed. AND wanting. AND apt to compensate for that lack of fulfillment in ways which would not satisfy.

AND,

except for having a waxed paper bag containing a lousy looking peanut butter and dark chocolate cookie forced upon me, everything is always better in canada.

[icy strait point / hoonah village, alaska]


humpback whale breaching in the strait

[skagway, alaska-- daytrip by automobile to the yukon territory]



we reserved a car from the local hertz office in skagway, intending to to take our own cost effective self-guided tour through british columbia, and ended up spending a nice time driving up into the yukon territory. we paid $68 plus $20 in supplemental insurance for the rental car and filled it with $15 in gasoline upon returning it in town. the tourists who opted to book an organized motorcoach tour through an excursion service paid $160 each. my mother and i noticed that the motorcoaches running up 'yukon highway 2' all turned around at the emerald lake scenic overlook. well, those passengers secured their safety, but missed out on the most attractive scenery.

this decision turned out great. for my mother, taking our own independent tour is a enormous risk. i mean, look at it from her perspective-- we were renting a car and driving into another country. had there been any type of catastrophe, oh good god! for the rest of time i would have never heard the end of it.

i lease and drive in foreign countries constantly, without too much thought, but this was a somewhat silent and presumed to be a huge experience for her. the only problem i saw (which then didn't even come up in our conversation) was why i chose to take out the additional insurance on the rental car. i always decline the insurance options (and am probably notoriously mouthy about what an expensive scam cdw/ldw is) but thought this was a perfect case to accept it. sure, i overpaid $20, but thought that $20 was pretty cheap considering it shut off every nervous concern.

it was raining off and on, and the fog was terrific, but we drove much further north toward whitehorse than originally intended. the mountain scenery was gorgeous and i love the dense evergreen loneliness road.

during the section of the drive north of emerald lake, we saw many moose-- some with their calves. i was looking forward to spotting a brown bear or grizzly bear while in this area but we did *not* see much wildlife aside from bald eagles and moose (which pleased my mother very, very much).


'the most photographed lake in the yukon territory'
emerald lake-- taken from the side of the south klondike highway

my mom lives in an isolated area and has to deal with black bears but only is inconvenienced by an occasional moose. lately the bears have been prevalent, annoying, and scary enough to convince her to stop taking a daily walk! when i visited my family's new home last august, a bear and her three cubs walked right past the deck on which i sat-- basically, less than ten feet from me. my dad came outside a few minutes later and pointed out noticeable paths in the dew from where previous bears had walked by earlier in the morning. black bears are easily intimidated, they say, but none of us have ever found a reason to draw attention or promote a situation.

[juneau, alaska]


sea kayaks--
mendenhall glacier, tongass national forest


blue ice and floating icebergs--
mendenhall glacier, tongass national forest

[currently sailing on royal caribbean's "radiance of the seas" cruise ship]

i have a job scheduled for the afternoon of arrival into canada and don't know how to both entertain my mother and finish the production. she refuses to leave my side when on vacation-- and that's not an exaggeration. i will never find a moment of privacy over the next week aside from the one found behind the door in a public bathroom stall. even in a hotel or cruise ship cabin bathroom, she has no problem barging in unannounced.

i mentioned not sensing any tremendous frustration or stress in regard to my mother or this trip since getting here, but the auditory hallucination might say otherwise. what follows is an example of a minor aggravation. i think it sounds petty, but perhaps 100 instances such as these per day amount to something. either way, i am writing it down specifically because i think what has been annoying so far is *not* annoying enough to cause me a mental distress:

everything of mine is for my mother to sample, none of her belongings are to be touched. she continues to carry around her own personal version of a culture of poverty, and therefore by default, whatever i own is viewed as better than hers, even if it really is not.

by stating the above, it should make sense that my mom has already used up some of my personal care items, including a customized blend of color enhancing hair conditioner. anyone who has ever read this blog definitely understands my rigidity in regard to the entire spectrum of consumption. my mother did not ask to use my items prior to their use and i packed the *exact* amount required for this trip.

perhaps she forgot about my allergies, thought we would share, and that if i needed anything i could use her supply? my most pressing argument would have been: if she thought her products to be inferior-- why would i want to try them? do i present myself as the type of person who expects to find pleasure, rather than hassle, out of a .99 cent drugstore product? in regard to this subject, i am spoiled and i will continue to be.

if i am annoyed it is because: 1) i once represented a hair care corporation and never find myself in a position to buy products, 2) i would actually feel funny buying a hair product-- especially if it was a different brand, 3) i send her an annual allotment of premium skin and hair care products, 4) she lazily bought and brought products which use cheap surfactants on this trip because they were conveniently sold in ecosabotaging travel-sized packaging, 5) i will need to buy my own products this week to replace those which were used up (rather than my mother thoughtfully replacing them in some way before they are required), 6) certainly i will not locate a comparable product aboard this ship and am apt to essentially use color striping garbage or need to wash my hair without a cleanser, 7) my mother's thoughtlessness and greed will cost me a $300 hair color correction upon my return, 8) i can't exactly mention this without sounding like a jerk,

AND,

9) as the week progresses, i will never hear the end of how bad i look, and how, having a hair care contract, i should never present myself to the world looking as bad as i do.

life preserver-- gulf of alaska, near yakutat bay

[currently sailing on royal caribbean's "radiance of the seas" cruise ship]

we boarded our southbound cruise from seward, alaska, last night and are currently approaching the hubbard glacier. our points of interest and ports of call include juneau, skagway, icy strait point/hoonah village, ketchikan, and the islands of the inside passage. our final destination is vancouver.

so far, so good. this boat, if you call a vessel this majestic a boat, is quite new and is actually awesome in its presentation. the "radiance of the seas" is mid-size, rather than a gigaship, and apparently 50% of the exterior walls are made up of glass. not only is "the radiance" the nicest looking cruise ship in port, but its sleek profile makes the more upmarket holland america and celebrity ships appear monstrous, if not like aging industrial workhorses.

i have a negative attitude about cruising, and very limited experience with it, but am changing my mind a little bit. for example, this is a superb way for travelers to access the scenery in southern alaska when limited on time. also, the population enjoying this cruise, dining and entertainment options, and the interior appointments are not as tacky as imagined. alaskan cruises are fairly expensive-- this feels to be the polar opposite of a discounted carnival cruise line 'party barge' sailing through the western caribbean.


view from the deck-- icy waters, gulf of alaska

my main argument with taking this vacation was how it interfered with many projects in which my name was attached. i didn't want to be placed in a situation where i gave a half-assed performance in any of it, whether it was course work, employment, or an activity planned in advance. i didn't want to disrupt anyone else's plans, either. it turns out that i am organized enough to maintain or complete all which is essential.

wireless on board prices out at a typical $25 or more per hour. the price per minute varies based upon whether or not a block of time is purchased in advance. the computers available in the business centers insist on the same price paid as those using wireless on personal notebook computers. i knew it would be expensive, and am just wincing but bearing it-- barely! actually, $25 an hour isn't shocking at all. one minor inconvenience is that the internet service is provided by satellite, which means sporadic inaccessibility or occasional slowness depending on the ship's location. the real annoyance is that royal caribbean's brochure stated wireless internet was available throughout this ship and also in each cabin. it is not. in fact, it is difficult to pick up a signal in many of the hotspot locations. the hotspots also lack electrical outlets.

most of my major course work for the term is completed but it is really hard to log in and overpay to submit assignments and projects. big deal, so i'll have a $200+ internet charge on my personal account. c'mon, who cares?! well, i care. i don't so much care about the money, i care that there is no way to circumnavigate the charge. there is no cheaper option available for only the mere price of inconvenience. i'd go for that in a second.

i am starting to have a problem with food/dehydration here. i don't even know how to define it to myself. occasionally my brain gets stuck and that which is perfectly fine in any other situation cannot be acceptable in another. i am only tolerating two see's vanilla lollypops (sic) and unlimited black coffee per day. perhaps, this relates to anxiety. i hate managing liquids, usually restrict coffee consumption, and ordinarily take it black for that matter. whatever is happening (and why i am allowed to abuse artificial sweetener today) is anyone's guess. note that typing out 'lollypops' instead of 'lollipops' is driving me nuts and will not continue.

in theory, with the availability of free 24 hour room service and the buffet dining rooms on this ship, i certainly could physically construct my food plan here. i don't know if both the assembly and the mental process can be implemented. bread is bread, right? yes, to anyone but me. i lack the security of the specifics and doubt the food plan will succeed during this vacation. then again, the doubt is stronger that i would find myself purposely choosing to eat and purge nervous foods anywhere near my mother's presence. i also am comfortable around her and usually do not restrict down to zero calories per day when we are together. so, leave it at "i don't know."

i am going to run out of see's pops. can i find them next friday in vancouver? probably not. the butterscotch and cafe latte varieties can be purchased in many airport giftshops, but usually the package is quite large. is there any way to order them and have a package deliv--

ah, surprise, anorexia is not allowing me to finish this idea. it's too bad because two see's vanilla lollipops compute to 120 calories. not having access to the security of that definitive consumption could potentially amount to how many calories? see, anorexia should not be stuffy and stoic if wanting to win this week.

my mother brought me an apple from a buffet this morning but the concept of 'apple' was suddenly lost on me. even though i packed an apple along from los angeles and ate it without issue upon arrival in anchorage, what was this weird mother-apple thing? why did she assume a buffet apple was in the same safety category as my own variety? why on earth did she think that 'apple' was 'apple' and totally disregard all implication of the situation which can either make 'apple' acceptable or vile? granted, she is not expected to understand all complexity, but by now she should be aware or be able to acknowledge it exists.

if 'apple' was fine in any situation, then how could i be considered ill? obviously if 'apple' was assumed to be acceptable, it would make sense to her that i always had 'apple' available to me. my illness suggests that this is clearly not the case. might she then think that anorexia is rooted in attitude rather than multiples of complicated explanations which can neither be articulated nor satisfy a person who has never dealt with this? no foods containing calories have ever been considered safe enough to be a constant in my life (although the food plan i am trying to conquer might change this statement soon).

why did she choose a hard, pointy, red apple from the pile of fruits? what was it about this particular apple she selected which proved to be *the* ultimate specimen to present to me? when the concept of 'apple' can work, i only allow round apples-- and this is not often. i don't like the angular idea behind what was brought to the table-- that being the fruit and the lack of awareness. her 'action' in this case invalidated 'apple.' notice how this 'food scenario' doesn't even begin to touch on the concept of eating. these days, i don't even need to focus on the horror of food or the concept of eating because 'mere situations involving food' are quickly invalidated.

a round apple might be fine, if green, and if it also fits in with an assortment of rules. a triangular-ish or heart-shaped pointy apple, as this, and in the color of sin, is not welcome. my independence is profound and this triangulation of poisoned nurturing heart/love apple feels terrorizing. perhaps this sounds crazier than i am about to write about, but "i'm not eating your goddamn triangular apple" makes sense right now. (...and the masses insist they understand the majority of this illness relates to an obsession with body weight. in the beginning, sure, but not when the illness is allowed to continue long term.) the anorexia expands and infiltrates multiple areas of life to the point that this apple was resisted well before nutrition, dieting/vanity, need/want, numeric obsession with calories/weight, or hunger entered the scene.

my mother also never understands the most important rule in the world outside of all relating to my limited consumption-- she mentions me and food in the same sentence to people 'on the outside.' granted, waitresses and waiters need to hear sentences about food orders, etc, but there is a way to do it without offending my illness.

"she is going to have ----"
"she WANTS ---"
oh my god, each time something like this is spoken aloud, the frustration is SO intense i think i will immediately pass out. what on earth is someone doing taking it upon themselves to squash my voice and proclaim for me that not only do i have the capacity for desire, but it relates to sustenance? is this simple situation and the overwhelming reaction enough to be considered traumatic? i think it will be looked upon as lame by a random reader, instead of illustrating just how many reverse steps have been taken to remove food/eating and its concept from my life. the mental illness has become all encompassing in that 'speaking about it wrong' can cause a tragedy. with that said, dealing with this broken rule wasn't all bad-- it reveals how grossly protected i am in daily life. i had begun to think the eating disorder was fairly naked these days. perhaps not if words are breaking me apart.

my doctor and i were concerned about 'after' this trip. after i visit with my family, i have bad experiences with mental health. we expect i will experience too much frustration and then perceive auditory hallucinations. i have been trying to watch every little thing i do in order to investigate how i operate-- which is crazy in itself because i don't know what to look for -- but perhaps in the future, this will help me know how to counter it.

well, i don't have to worry about the 'afterward' now. on the second day of this trip, i had the initial experience of that which was not there. at first the 'noise' sounded real, but then i became instantly aware that it did not exist.

i thought my opinion was that the 'noise' was useful in that it allows my stress a high level of value. the problem is... i don't feel stressed out to be around my mother or to be on this boat with thousands of strangers. i was never scared of this 'noise' before but now i am worried because i don't know what it means. i was once diagnosed with post traumatic stress disorder (ptsd) relating to the time when i lived with my family. the idea that i now recognize that i experience auditory hallucinations when around them somewhat makes sense. it would make less sense that i did not react to family members whatsoever.

now, i guess, i don't know what that auditory sensation is 'for' because, in my opinion, i don't find that it needs to validate my hell right now. there really isn't any major discomfort other than "being stuck in a situation where i am assumed to be one of 'the sheep' and i am not one of 'the sheep.'" my mother has provided a few jackass moments but i expect nothing less from 99% of the population-- so is this an authentic frustration or a typical day?

consider: dehydration, while holding a different level of equilibrium rather than hedging into the land of first rank symptom. might this noise not have been a symptom of hell, and merely indicative of exhaustion?

[seward, alaska]

which of the following is true:

a) i am typing from a haunted hotel,

b) for some odd booking misinterpretation, i am sharing a queen-sized bed with my mother in a small alaskan town,

c) she is somewhat falling asleep right into a carton of chinese food,

d) it's raining and freezing though i bought a third jacket prior to wednesday's departure and am constantly wearing multiple layers,

e) my mom mentioned that she doesn't want to go sea kayaking anymore,

f) aside from enduring my own bony ass on the plane, and snarling at these 20-some hours of daylight, i am not miserable,

g) my mother 'just happened to mention' that she is going back to school to get her phd this fall and said this is *only* due to my influence. in her current employment position held, she will probably not see a noted increase in income -- income, as you know, is ordinarily the only thing which stirs proactivity in that area of the family,

h) all of the above,

i) all of the above, plus i am tolerating sitting in three restaurants a day.

j) all of the above, plus holy christ: her fortune cooking suggests not cancelling a planned outdoor sporting activity because, holy christ twice: it will possibly benefit her finances or career.

AND yes,

k) this former agoraphobic scored 100% on a final exam taken from an unfamiliar and bustling coffee shop.

since i travel a lot, i already have most travel essentials, but i went out and bought:

- acceptable camera
- 4 gb sdhc cards (2)
- rechargeable batteries (3)

- lightweight and waterproof gortex parka with hood
- water-resistant/windproof north face jacket with hood
- miscellaneous clothing for rock climbing and sea kayaking

- cheapo binoculars
- insulated mug
- several packs of chemical hand warmers
- gloves (tell me, how do lightweight gloves cost more than a jacket?)

so, what am i forgetting? this is an odd, yet easy vacation since my mother will be there-- but then again, it will take place in the outdoors. i have no idea what i am going to need until after arrival but also find myself buying items for my mom that i know she never even considered. so far, i seem prepared, but am doubting the binocular purchase. for scoping out the alaskan coast from afar, the scenery probably requires a higher objective lens diameter than what i bought.

alas, i'm too cheap and it's too late to buy an underwater housing for my camera. this is too bad, because we are definitely going scuba diving near kenai fjords national park.

we also plan to take a sea kayaking tour and will consider driving from skagway to emerald lake and into the yukon. this is merely an assembly of tourist crap, you know, set amid spectacular scenery. a 'tour package' is convenient, if not essential for sea kayaking, but perhaps we will hire an independent guide upon arrival.

my mom may have once been a special needs traveler, but she is coming around. she no longer wishes for travel experiences to be safe and provided from behind the protection of tinted glass. even though i was put into a frustrating predicament of being 'forced' to go on this trip, my mother just mentioned that she had considered taking the vacation by herself ("yay") if it came down to it and i absolutely could not go ("arrrgghhh"). perhaps i will someday learn how to make the word "no" actually take on the meaning.

that statement from her is everything. it's a combination of the most exciting complement (*due to me, she is now comfortable considering transversing the unknown independently*) which also includes the garbage which builds my illness (*unless you absolutely cannot go*).

perhaps i was supposed to say "i absolutely cannot go" and that "many portions of my life will be disrupted and cannot be fixed if forced to go on this trip" more than fifty times? i don't know. this isn't bothering me as much right now due to pre-trip distractions. had i not been able to find the perfect camera, parka, gloves, airline ticket, temporary job in vancouver to thwart the anxiety of this huge expense, etc, stress would be spinning and frustration would still hold rank. alaska in june, and visited with a person who refuses to restrict any avenue of life-- the price point is much higher than the one i adhere to when traveling alone.


my depression has been too physical to write lately, but i always look back to this blog and wish i would have written something down even if it was basic or didn't flow. dehydration is crazy. i can't see too well today.


what about the food plan? how on earth am i going to handle eating disorder over the next two weeks? i have no idea. the two of us are taking an alaskan cruise through the inside passage. the idea (or stereotype?) of the abundance of food available on a cruise ship was threatening at first, but now the perspective suggests that with a lot of food, it should be easier to find what i need.


i have to take a final exam this week and am not looking foreword to having to lug scuba gear *and* my corporate laptop *and* my university laptop (plus three enormous engineering textbooks). perhaps in an alternate state of health i could just transfer my notes to my business setup, but i am not comfortable without the distinction. this is just strange for me to try to take a final from a starbucks or local cafe setting because my issue is never the content of a test, rather, it's rooted in perfecting the specifics of routine.

last october, a woman who was enrolled in one of my online classes at the time had mentioned logging on to the course's first exam from a coffee shop. she subsequently told of how panicked she was at the extent and difficulty of the exam. i was equally hysterical and shocked-- and this was before she mentioned being overwhelmed to find out it was an 'open mike' night at that cafe.

on the one hand, i completely get off on stories of how idiocy or complacency leads to complete disaster-- but i also was overcome on how that woman was so far beyond me in a domain of comfort and confidence. it would never have occurred to me to place 'starbucks' and 'first test' and 'what a great idea' in the same thought. now, after having rooted through the archives of crap i have published online, i see i had referred to the situation by stating: this is a level of freedom from anxiety i never want to find. it even made me uncomfortable to read about it.

last fall, i couldn't imagine being relaxed 'sitting' in a damn cafe with other consumers and their commotion, let alone try to take the first test of a semester. so this is news, i guess. seven and a half months later, i can relax enough to take a final from (perhaps a disturbingly noisy and distracting) public area.

well, isn't this agonizing:

the instructor for my personal interest health class sent out e-mail stating that many students were having problems submitting their work online and not to worry.

note that on sunday i did log on and take the exams for fun, but i did not summon up the _______ needed to bother with trying to finish any written work.



it gets worse:

"everyone who had not been dropped earlier in the semester has already received a full score and certificate."

today i nearly passed out in resident doctor #4's office again. this makes three times out of the last three visits that we have had to deal with this interruption. he made me sit and then ran to get water but i only kept it in my hands.

these sudden issues of dizziness are as much of a mental issue as they are a physical problem-- resident doctor #4's office has been terrific and alive. it's difficult to want to remain awake for that which i am being fed-- that which i decided to ignore.

at the end of our hour, the untouched water didn't suggest fear or the stage fright, rather, it perpetuated the idea that there was much more behind the issue than simple dehydration.

brilliant.
where am i going to find a parka
in JUNE
in southern california.

no.
i called.
they don't have any.

screw it.
i'll go buy a camera instead.

my broken down anxiety level continues to negatively impact portions of my life. i still don't know how to manage normal tasks without a high strung, disturbed level of engagement. the depression has been profound in the past, but now, and in companion with this loss of intensity, renders a lot of physical pressure. the strength of gravity continues to pull on my body and i hate having to actively upright myself. when wearing a concrete forehead, sitting at this desk is a chore. why not slump? i never signed on to this additional work.

today is the last day of my easiest/hardest class. i'm so fucked and... i just finished teaching an advanced science lab at the undergraduate level and also act as a mentor for two graduate students. what i mean is, i really lack the ability to deal with finding *this much difficulty* in a lame class taken strictly out of personal interest. it began back in february, but with this new (and supposedly improved) lack of drive, it now appears i will need to sit for all four exams and submit all 20 assignments in the next fourteen hours.

or what?
i don't know.
i never 'didn't do' anything in this way before!

sure, i occasionally let things go to hell, but usually the superhero's dry cleaning has been picked up.

i don't care that i lack the capacity to consider completing all of the work. i do care that i signed on to this course and now hold less than a half hearted intention of ever finishing it in the future. the worst part about this predicament-- all assignments which are submitted will receive full credit. the answers given are personal, and subsequently, they cannot be evaluated. tests, on the other hand, are not timed but are evaluated. this is the type of self-paced course which i would have ordinarily finished within the first two weeks of the semester. everyone enrolled could easily have earned the full score.

another influence as to why this matter of the personal interest class is screwed up rather than being flung on my pile of success: i am embarrassed that i cannot write down the required sentences. i mean, i could, but it is tremendously uncomfortable. everything relates to food, diet, or finding balance. i feel too restricted and my illness will not 'allow' me to use the needed language. i cannot connect myself to that specific lexicon of vocabulary. combining the concept of 'me' plus the 'actions' of that foreign language of 'wanting to live in color' is not currently tolerated. also, avoidance in the case of the subject matter may be acceptable. many of the questions which need to be answered may inspire more hell. just because anorexia grumbled at a food unit rather than looked at graves today doesn't mean its lethal spikes won't show up tomorrow.

now i am going to cry and am not sure what this is about. perhaps i have spent many of the last years trying to promote the extreme benefits of my problem. since it began in childhood, it will not leave. it is a large part of my philosophy. psychoactive drugs work to tighten this disordered portion of me up, and allow 'newer' pathology to fall away. it has been essential to learn to put illness to work, and in doing so, i (surprisingly) acquired a level of life/income that few people come close to touching. all of my restrictions, predicaments, and refusals experienced recently have been desired, and that which i could not do, has always been appreciated. very rarely since putting illness to task, if ever, have i found myself in a situation where i could 'not do' due to illness-- it's always resulted in out performance.

i never remember how the most minuscule issue can disrupt my life. it's june, i should have recalled this before getting upset. last june, my physician changed role from that of a resident to a physician who maintained a private practice. he also changed offices. i think i worried and obsessed on this blog for three months straight-- simply due to the changes in location and role. i find that hard to admit now but understand that the passion of fear, plus a billion other tiny implications, was definitely traumatic.

now the other side, the negative voice should probably show its opinion:

if i got an A in health while living with mental restriction and a feeding tube i think i would commit suicide. the riddle wouldn't rhyme and that is important. AND i cannot accept an F either when i haven't even earned what amounts to an X, Y, or Z. AND who fucking cares about this class because it isn't even worth actual credits. AND even if it was worth a university credit, so what? i am far beyond utilizing an undergraduate transcript for anything. this class does not fall into a category of necessity. letting it go unfinished cannot influence anything. AND that is what this whole season has been about-- finding out what it's like to not excite obsession. "how am i going to deal with not being so intense?" i really am not supposed to give a damn about that which i used to over stimulate. it's somewhat bothering me that i am giving this situation any attention when it is exactly what i am expected to investigate.

[...or, was that the positive voice?]

backward is foreword.
good is bad.
"it takes muscle to shift this new vehicle into reverse"
all of that...
AND how fitting, since MINI Sippy car got scuffed this spring.

consider: "man, i'm so fucked" = a perfect execution

consider: how the anxiety is broken, but not dead. am i going to load up on ephedrine, freak the fuck out and put intensity to task-- like i shouldn't do -- or get out there in the world and prepare for my alaskan trip?

i do need a parka.