flagrant

whatever just happened is over. i never want to go through that again, but perhaps tomorrow? after the very next instant of violation, i imagine i will get stuck-- restricted by one thousand reasons that define reality when inside the box.

the door is open, we had better go. chuck has amassed too many vacation days and we will either spend them north of punta arenas (torres del paine national park, patagonia) or amid the lamu archipelago (kiwayu, pate, siyu-- indian ocean, off the coast of kenya).

sickness in regard to the partial hospitalization program is creeping in, telling me to lose weight prior to the physical exam, and then again prior to the day i actually register.

me: "what in the hell for?"

v.

problem: "you have access to, and will be surrounded by a team of medical specialists daily. simultaneously consider the sense with the nonsense of this illness-- c'mon, wouldn't this be the perfect time to drop your bmi into the low elevens? i doubt it would take more than three efforts. if you don't, in the end you will look back on this sickening period of laziness as a missed opportunity."

v.

something evil: "considering there are a few weeks between now and then, this goal is pathetic. you are just as complacent as everything you see. i want to see a 10 by the first week in july even if it carries a .9 with it. don't worry. you have time, and you have me."

resident doctor #4 faxed in a referral to the partial hospitalization program last week. food, isolation-- undoubtedly the best of the worst were noted. he acknowledged that socialization had indeed been stressed, but as to the specifics of eating disorder i thought it best not to ask. the time line is undefined, but after a physical and neurological exam, it should not take long.

AND here i go masking the emotion again: how much is this going to cost? it is not completely inpatient, so the total will be less than the typical $3000/day estimate. i don't know. in the end it may amount to considerably higher or lower. the daydream is fairly accurate in that it holds both sides: two days after admittance, an inpatient stay is pushed, which in turn causes more problems; or, a level of comfort is found there, my personality turns on, and staff questions who authorized my attendance.

the last 10 months have seen hit after hit. right now, this partial hospitalization program is pretty much the only thing keeping me from hopping off of the mulholland overpass. it is frightening to squint hard enough, only to see the glimmer at the end of the tunnel grow a little brighter. i want to go but am superstitious-- if this gets acknowledged, my access to this program will somehow be derailed.

- escaped
- am standing 14 miles from aforementioned maelstrom

consider: the power of embarrassment, confession/reconciliation.
consider: everything owned worth more than $10 is strapped to my body?

this recent tampering with my door is providing a lot of grief-- to the point it has inspired a profoundly fucked up situation.

since the new locks were installed over memorial day weekend, my inability to live is gone. aside from a period of time spanning less than 70 minutes, i have been unable to leave this suite. it is impossible to accurately articulate the fear. this problem is not really rooted in going outside, rather, this has been about controlling whether or not someone will have an opportunity to take notice.

as it stands, no stranger is allowed to know whether or not anyone is here. it needs to be questionable. when i am here alone, there is an unshakable need to maintain the dual state of confusion. perhaps someone is? perhaps not? i cannot know what people think, but want the routine of attendance to appear to have lost its ritualistic formula. also, and i am not clear on the reason, nobody should specifically hear or see me. even when chuck is around, i have not been able to exit this room. i have been free enough to open the door twice, but not enough to step out into the hallway.

consider how obsessive and paranoid this problem of trying to live secretly can get-- how it can take up to 25 minutes of tentative slyness to simply slide open a window. this should not compute. whoever wanted inside only desired material goods or information. there was no intention of harming me-- yet my existence must be restrained right now.

about twelve years ago, these sentences would have made sense. in a housebound situation without responsibility, authority, or the possibility of intervention, increasing levels of bizarre behavior had been reinforced by default. the difference is that my vacation expires in nine days. AND i can't stand being like this. the intensity of anxiety is experienced now, and there are non-essential places i want to go.

AND i don't care if gas provides a $4.62/gallon excuse. i need to get out and go and drive somewhere-- anywhere. i need to board an airplane and fly to patagonia just to kiss winter. i need to go stand on the moeraki metaphor again. i can't be here, but can't leave. i think i can, but then the clock scrunches up and the time of day suggests "how it's best to just stay in." this is true how it is safe inside-- occasionally. after three years with resident doctor #4, why bend to that? it is safer to be confident in the competence of handling the outside.

the new locks on this door are loud-- muffling the metallic confirmation of hard clunk with whatever is available here is going to take ingenuity. i keep thinking that if the process of coming and going were silent, i could leave. this isn't true, though. i haven't slept in three days, am constantly clear as to who (if anyone) is in this section of the building, and vacancy makes no difference.

panic has extended beyond ordinary distress. when trying to leave, the head rushes invalidate any concerns over arrhythmia. seriously, who cares about the perpetual heart attack when the stress is such i feel to pass out and fall down? consider the exercise. my weight has noticeably dropped again. AND what have i been doing other than silently standing by a door listening intently to nothing?

if there is little material value to protect here, why does this door suddenly appear to be a vault? is that perspective apparent to other people? perhaps this extra security is attractive? simply making a visual change in the locks reveals my awareness, and that i have undoubtedly made changes to contents and my lifestyle... but now the worry is that my door may look inviting to the thieves who have yet to walk by.