I Emailed a Topless Pic and Now I am Nervous

I have no idea what it is about summer time but whatever it is, I become a desperate, attention-craving man-hungry fiend. This summer some guy from myspace hunted me down on another social networking site, using my first name and searching through countless profiles. I was surprised that he found me and sadly, stupid enough to accept his friend request. I should have seen a bright red sign that said "stalker alert," but instead, feeling depressed about my classmate's death and unbearably lonely yet fertile, I chatted with him.

I like to take risque photos so that when I am 90 years old, I can say, hey, look when I was 30 my breasts were pretty nice. I sent him a pic after he sent me a few photos of his manhood. That turned out to be a mistake. While my face isn't visible, you can tell just by the shape of my boobs that it very well may be me. :0

Then he told me was married and even scarier, affiliated with some government forces. As a paranoid schizophrenic, I really freak out whenever someone with a close relationship to Uncle Sam wants to snuggle with me. It makes me think of male Mata Hari spies and honey traps. This is paradoxical because I am eternally indebted to said Uncle Sam for paying my way through college and taking a chance rehabilitating a broken down paranoid schizophrenic. Despite my utmost loyalty (and I am not just saying that because Uncle Sam is reading this), I fear their minions. Not as much as I fear hackers or hedge-fund managers, but pretty close. So I tried breaking it off. The more I tried to shoo him away, the more insistent he got that he chat with me during his work hours. Finally, I demanded his real phone number and then he finally left me alone.

Now I have no idea what he is going to do with my artsy nude photographs. Well, it could be worse, it could be a photograph of me doing drugs, that's illegal. So, at least I can say, "yes, I used poor taste, but no, it was not illegal."

Now I am a paranoid ball of anxiety.

I Have a New Therapist

Well, after my distressing couple of weeks dealing with a classmate/friend's suicide, I finally had a session with a new therapist. She is a PhD at the campus psych clinic. I opted to go to the campus psych clinic because the county's therapists are hard to get appointments with and they are more for crisis-riddled, 100% damaged people (like I used to be until I got adjusted to medication and my grad school life).

We talked about my classmate and how it brought back my memories from my cousin's suicide. I was close to my cousin and we lived in the same house for a few years. It all came rushing back, the closeness we had, the way his life crumbled in a matter of years, the sudden news of his suicide, the viewing, the sight of my dead cousin's brother sitting by himself in the corner of a park, strumming his guitar, while the rest of his family sat around sadly holding pictures of my lost cousin.

My therapist brought up the fact that it seemed like I was hiding from issues with suicide and self-harm in my life by ducking into my academics. I have to agree. What is worse is that failing classes makes me feel not only incompetent and dumb, but it hits harder because the only thing holding me together is my success in my college life.

I sometimes feel that I am also doomed to a life of self-harm, be it through cutting or drugs. I have to reframe my attitude. I have done not too bad the past 3 years. I got my Bachelor's degree in the arts/humanities, and got through my first year in a Master's program. Instead of thinking, "most people with schizo-affective disorder who come from a financially deprived past don't complete college but I did," I think "I don't have any practical work experience! I'm already 30! I'm doomed to poverty and poorly paying jobs!" That might be true, but I could at least focus on the positive parts of my life and personality.

Hopefully, I can work on these issues with my therapist. Also, she pointed out that it seems like I have issues holding a steady relationship and feeling like a complete person on my own. I agree. I think my insecurities are visible and that men with damaged egos seeking an easy lay prey on me, and I let them because I've never known anything else.

I have known that I have daddy issues, or rather never-had-a-daddy issues, but the fact that I feel like I am incomplete without a male sex partner is kind of news to me. I thought I was more whole than that. I guess I shouldn't be too surprised. In the time since I started this blog, I have had 3 lovers and 1 one-night stand. I don't know how often other people change partners, but maybe 4 partners in 2-3 years is too much for someone who wants to settle down and be a good Catholic daughter.

My therapist said I was normal, in terms of my behavior, and this was mind-boggling to me. She said it seemed like I had a good handle on social skills except for when I analyze them for hours afterwards. I really want to be normal. I want to be confident, successful, a good role model, but I don't think I am and I have no idea how to be successful. Also, I have major issues with food and eating.

I have been binge eating as soon as the clock reads 5 pm. I have been exercising every other day for at least 30 minutes (either running or boxing), but I still feel like I am being lazy. If it wasn't nearly 100 degrees outside, I would probably spent the majority of my day walking off calories, running along the canal banks in my neighborhood, and doing burpees until I can't stand up.

Maybe one day I will have the ability to look at an ice cream come and not feel like I am about to have a panic attack, a flight or binge eat response, but for now I will settle for just avoiding ice cream cones completely. 

Pizza Binge, Nap, Feeling Calmer

Earlier today I posted a long-winded weeping, mournful wail of a blog entry. I assure you, I feel much better and I am not as emotionally unstable as I was when I wrote that.

Writing out my feelings to the cybersphere felt amazing and healing. Maybe it is the exhibitionist in me, but speaking out about suicide, mental health, and my personal life makes me feel like more than a speck in the world. I feel like a human. Not bad for a dead doll.

Oh my gosh! I am watching a National Geographic youtube video called "Forbidden Love" where a female therapist (therapist, mind you) has sex with male patients for money. Where is this woman and how far ahead must one make an appointment?! Sorry, that came out of nowhere, I happen to be multi-tasking, which makes me a little skitzy in my writing, ha ha.

I still deeply miss my friend and I still feel like curling up into a ball and hiding from the outside world for days and days, but I am not as hysterical as I was this afternoon. I always thought he might have considered me attractive, just because he would always approach me and he never approached other females. Also, he used to smoke his cigarettes, stare into my eyes with a tender look, and smile a crooked smile that was charming but indecipherable. I myself caught myself thinking about him romantically from time to time. One time, a bunch of us were sitting around the table talking. He only made eye contact with me, never my friend. He smiled, laughed a low chuckle, and gave me that askance look he always threw me.

I don't think I ever told him that I considered him a friend. Our graduate program is so tightly knit that I just assumed that he knew I thought of him as more than a classmate. I felt a bond with him not only because we spent so much time in the same circle, but also because he chose me to approach when he had a question. Now, I feel guilty about not seeking him out more when we were still in school. He was always so composed. I felt so scattered, like his opposite. After a teary nap, I woke up and felt a sense of longing and a tiny bit of acceptance. Wherever he is, I will see him on the other side. Then I will see that crooked smile and those tender eyes once again......

I Am Dead Doll

It is all over the media in the next town from me. My friend committed suicide in a public manner. So far, my county has yet to pick up the story. I only found the story by digging through the internet. I don't think anybody else knows. I don't think any of my classmates know how our friend died. His name and mode of suicide is plastered on the internet. Animals, barbarians, hiding behind aliases, debate about his mangled corpse in the comments of their town's online newspaper. One slandered him by saying he traumatized the bystanders (with no mention about how he is DEAD now while they get to LIVE and that his grieving friend is reading every gory, ugly, callous comment they are making...). Ugh. Normal People are so incomprehensible to me. They think us mentally ill are the sick ones?! We are genetically different. THEY are jerks and dogs. They have all the normal mental health and what do they do? They joke about my classmate's suicide like so much Jimmy Fallon fodder. I sent a complaint about the comments to the online newspaper. They never responded.

I cannot believe I missed the signs of suicide. I had more than 4 classes with him this past year...if not past 2 years. We saw each other every day. We greeted each other every day. He would approach me and ask me how I was, what did we do in class, how was my work going. I would make chit chat with him. I was very fond of him. He was tall, handsome, quiet. Withdrawn--I should have known. He has always been a little aloof, I thought maybe it was a cultural thing. No, it was his psychological wound not a personality trait.

This is hell. I drove around in shell-shock, trying to get an emergency session with a therapist. Next week, said the campus health clinic. I went to the county out-patient center where I am a consumer (I am bipolar but currently I have/had no symptoms). Next week, they said. Next week, next week, where will I be next week? I might take my student loan and flee this country. Forget finishing the Masters program. Forget everything. I just want a new start in a country that does not despise the mentally ill or laugh when we end our lives.

I previously wrote that I did not want any anger inside me, but when I read those callous and cruel comments on the article about my friend's suicide, I felt rage. Rage, wrath, hatred, deep-seated anger. I wanted to tell them exactly what I thought of them and their pathetic little personalities. I wanted to cross the line with the people who wrote those comments. I wanted to hurt them psychologically. Hence, the sudden drive to find a crisis therapist. I do not want to be that barbarian that these people are. I want to be able to snub my nose at them. I did not want to cut my wrist like I used to. I did not want to go screaming my anger over the internet like they do. Instead, I sat under the fluorescent lights of the out-patient treatment center and waited. "Next week," the counselor said. "Fine," I said. I left.

Outside in the parking lot I started to cry. I wept tears but I kept walking. I was a robot, a walking dead doll. Crying, floating outside of myself, feeling everything, feeling nothing. Limbo, then hell, then limbo, then emptiness, then over and over and over again, that endless cycle of grief and pain. I drove aimlessly for ten minutes.

I could see my life as endless opportunities. Death was not one. Neither was admitting myself to a psychiatric ward. There are many ways to self-destruct, to erupt like a volcano. I decided to binge eat. Off I went to the pizza joint for a large pizza and a bottle of diet Pepsi. I wanted nothing wicked to come out of my mouth so instead I stuffed it full of carbs and grease, swallow, repeat, until the heaven of sleep comes again, where I can pretend like all this is a nightmare. It is too bad, I ate 1200 calories yesterday and I even exercised. Then I found out exactly how my friend died and I went into a frenzied binge eating, remorse-ridden, tear-stained rollercoaster ride. I still feel like a dead doll. I put make-up on. I stare at myself in the mirror. I see large, oversized, kohl outlined eyes with a look in them like somebody vacuumed out the life out of them. I am dead doll. Hopefully, this will pass. Until then, I am going to eat my pain away.

Empty Summer Days

My classmate died this week. He was a very kind man who spoke to me in a gentle voice. I miss his presence already. Next semester will be a little difficult not having him in my graduate classes anymore.

I still have no therapist to replace my last one. I am slowly adjusting to the new cocktail of medications my psychiatrist put me on. I have no job and all I do is care-take my grandmother during the day and take walks in the evening.

Some days the reality of having a public blog makes me feel doomed. "What have I done," I think, "I am too exposed." But, I cannot help that I am mentally ill. Maybe my little wails and rants in cyberspace will make somebody else feel a little more normal. Also, it is healing to feel so emotionally stripped. I have nothing to hide anymore, my deepest secrets are posted online for people to root through and pass judgment on. Well, I always did want to be a confessional writer. I just never wanted to actually confess. I guess I wanted to be a fiction writer but that did not pan out. None of the writing panned out. Instead, I have milled about in academia, making friends who have no idea about my mental illness, feeling both accepted and alienated at the same time, struggling to come to grips with how society perceives me, and back in mourning after another classmate passed away.

In case you have been reading throughout this blog's timeline, I have actually experienced quite a bit of loss these past few years. My cousin committed suicide a few years ago. That was actually the impetus to start writing online. Next, my classmate whom I was secretly infatuated with passed away at a young age. Later, my grandfather passed away from a heart attack. Now another classmate has died at a young age. My mother mentioned to me that it was strange that so many people close to me had died the past few years. I really wish she had not mentioned that, because it actually is true. Three out of four of my close contacts died before the age of 40. That is far, far too young.

Now, I feel mortality like a chiffon dress that is delicate, transparent, and quick to rip. I wear my mortality like my new tattoo-- on my sleeve and open to the elements.

Tragedy always brings to mind the shame I feel over my own anger. Anger in words, anger in print, anger in general makes me self-loathe. I feel like anger is arsenic, slowly devouring my insides until one day I will stagger into the desert and die. I don't want to die with anger. I want to live. I want to be free of anger. How to escape the anger of being hurt, traumatized, alienated---that is something I have yet to answer. I try to find positive things in life to focus on. I try to accept that I will get angry and learn to control it so that it transforms into a butterfly and not some mutant caterpillar.

I will now list positive things about my life for balance and peace of mind:

I knew two great and kind men who were fond of me and whose memory as classmates I will hold in my heart for the rest of my life.
I am half way to earning my Master's degree.
I am sticking to my new diet of raw vegetables and I am not weighing myself obsessively.
My grandmother and mother spent the majority of their lives taking care of me and I will become a better person so that they will be proud.
John Nash is awesome and a genius whose schizophrenia did not stop him from winning a Nobel Peace Prize.
Despite having schizo-affective disorder, I achieved a B.A. and entered a graduate program.
Puppies.

Mental Illness in Other Countries Compared to Ours

So, if the media wants to say that the Santa Monica killer was just another example of mentally ill people going ballistic, then I pose a question to you:

If ALL nations have a minority of their populations who have a mental illness, why the hell is America the only one that has 90% of the shooting sprees?

The UK has a number of people with schizophrenia, as seen in R.D. Laing's movie, "Asylum," so why don't they have raging maniacs attacking random people with knives or fists? What about Russia? What about China? India?

The countries with the largest populations on the country have nowhere near the amount of mass murders that America does, but surely they have more mentally ill due to their populations (China, Russia, and India are geographically huge and very heavily populated).

So don't blame the organic brain disorder known as bipolar or schizophrenia or depression or autism. Because it is not. Lately, "independent" (read: bogus) media outlets have been pressuring people to turn up the heat on the mentally ill and blaming this on the "deinstitutionalization" of the mentally ill. Because internment camps filled with drugged prisoners is somehow more humane, just, or safe.

It's not humane. That should be a given. It's not 'just' because you'd be violating the constitutional rights of everybody. It's not safe. Why? Because if you honestly believe that the mentally ill exist as hare-triggers to explosive acts of violence, then surely you would also believe that rounding them all up and burying them in locked bunkers might trigger said explosive acts of violence. This apparently did not occur to the people leaving little comments on Yahoo such as "lock them all up," and 'it only takes one nut to kill a dozen people, take 'em all away'...and many more such similar comments.

Rule number one: think before you leap to conclusions. Try to think outside of our junk-food infested, serial-killer haven; this violence happy, trigger happy, free gun give-aways, rape scandal nation. It is not the organic brain disorder known as schizophrenia, bipolar, or depression that makes people kill, it is something else.

As for the previous entry about accepting a sort of omnipresent government, here is why I support this:

Because otherwise I will be surrounded by crazed, angry mobs who shit all over the constitution and want their guns AND the right to tear me limb from limb just because my brain chemistry is different from their brain chemistry. The ONE thing that stands between me and those crazed, violent mobs with second-amendment stickers and pitch forks is the federal government who WILL protect my life and my constitutional rights and will NOT bar me from existing just because I periodically hear voices when I refuse to take my medicine. That is why I love the Man. Sincerely, a Paranoid Schizophrenic with no history of violence or even of speeding tickets. :)

Diet Diary

I have nothing to do except stress out about my weight. I am on academic probation for my Master's program and that makes my weight seem like the one part of my life that I can control---that is, IF I could control it.

After I work out for more than 40 minutes with my punching bag, I don't feel hungry. I feel weak and sleepy. The day after I work out, I tend to binge eat like I am having my last meal. It becomes a crushing hunger pang that won't leave me alone until I eat. What is worse, since I exercised to the point of exhaustion, I am sore and too weak to burn off the excess calories I inevitably binge eat the day afterwards.

Yesterday, I ate 600 calories until 4 pm, which is fine. However, around 5 pm, I became famished and panicked. I drove to a fast food joint and binge ate a medium sized combo meal for a whopping total of 1000 calories. Then, in the middle of the night, I woke up hungry and ate 5 small raw apricots. So much sugar and sodium! I really hate that the thought of grease and butter sends me into pleasurable conniptions.

Today, I have had 400 calories and it's nearly 2 pm. The thing is, 80 calories is in pure half and half creamer. Another 110 calories comes from the Red Bull Red Edition drink I had. I feel bloated and I am burping, despite eating 210 calories in actual food (80 calorie serving of Fiber One with small amount of 30 calorie Almond milk in the morning, a small serving of home-made lentil soup for lunch). I drink so much liquid that I get bloated and when I weight myself I weigh even more than I would expect based on my solid food intake. That makes me depressed....that makes me start thinking about french fries.

I am writing so that I can distract myself from the thought of cheap dollar nuggets at Wendys. I feel full, but I keep thinking about food. Grrr..Hopefully, I won't be so sore tonight and then I can exercise for 40 minutes and burn off some calories from the past two days...but then tomorrow how I will crave sugar and carbs!!

Comment on Alleged "Mentally Ill" Shooter

I have to do this every time some sociopath gets mistaken for a schizophrenic. Every damn time.

Here is a check list for schizophrenia:

Hears voices/auditory hallucinations for a period of time
Sees visions/visual hallucinations for a period of time
May have beliefs of one of the following: aliens, UFO's, persecution by the federal government
May believe him/herself to be a prophet
Likely to be disorganized in thought and speech. Will speak in neologisms (made up words), clanging (nonsense rhymes), or word salads (random strings of words).
May not bathe, eat, sleep, drink, speak for a period of time
Extremely likely to feel paranoia mixed with fear, may believe him/herself to be politically oppressed.
If manic, patient will likely not sleep for days on end.
May speak out loud to imaginary voices.

So. There. The claims of this anonymous police source said "history of mental illness and hospitalization"---> due to THREATS TO HURT OTHERS. THAT is NOT mental illness, that is hatred, anger management, sociopathic behavior, and manipulation. Why the hell was he put in a mental hospital and not in jail?! It is a felony to yell 'fire' in a crowded theater, but to threaten to kill people is not a criminal offense but a "mental health issue"?!

Here is his check list:

Threatened to hurt others
Obsessed with spree killers and guns
Hatred
Anger

Where, I ask, does it say voices, visions, paranoia, aliens, talking to imaginary voices, and insomnia??
It does not. This is bullshit propaganda trying to blame all mental patients for the acts of an angry, degenerate scumbag who never had the prototypical experiences of severe schizophrenia.

I really wonder if I am paranoid about my persecution beliefs, because it seems like this general public and the media love to handle all angry people as "the mentally ill." No, I hate to break it to you, but the worst men in all of history have been psychologically normal (i.e. Hitler, Pol Pot, Stalin, Dr. Goebbels, Dr. Mengele, Bin Laden, and so on). If you never accept a normal person as capable of evil acts you will never be able to stop them. Keep rounding up mental patients as scape-goats and you'll just have a bunch of lawsuits on your hands and future killers roaming around free and clear. Accept it. Normal people murder other every day. 

Psychiatric Help Alters Personality Traits!

...hopefully for the better.

Below is a link to a Yahoo! article about the effects of mental health treatment on personality traits. I always thought I would be a moody, morbid little goth girl until I got put on a cocktail of medicines and went through 3 or 4 therapists. Now, I am not morbid! I am a little moody, but nearly as much. Also, I am more sociable and I think having someone to talk to about my problems really helped with communication skills.

I am grateful for the recent psychological treatments such as the recovery and reintegration model for mental health treatment. I knew that it worked to alleviate my anxiety, but at least now there is a study that confirms this belief.

Here is the link:
http://news.yahoo.com/psychiatric-treatments-may-change-personality-135354106.html
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On a separate note, I read that last blog entry and I realized why I proof-read my entries prior to publishing them. It was definitely a twisted entry and not one I am proud of---yes, I have food issues, weight issues, body image issues, and abandonment issues. I am trying to work through them. The problem is that I am not seeing a therapist since I was transferred to the city's public mental health system and out of the intense out-patient treatment center. Sorry that you, the reader, have to keep reading about my food issues. I want to lose weight but I would prefer to do it healthily.

That being said, I have a history of self-harming behavior since the age of 12. I used to be a teenage cutter, then a pothead, then a binge eater, than a sexoholic, then back to binge eating. It seems like I can never find a balance inside. It is to the point where I  have no idea how I come across to the outside world. I feel desperate for love and attention but I flee after maybe 3 months of intimate relationships with friends or lovers. I can never separate the "bad" me who feels anger at what happened to me, guilt over hurting people emotionally, and shame about my past---from the "good" me who wants world peace, happy old people to sing and dance again, and little puppies to romp free across the globe.

I just wanted to say that I feel like I left that last blog entry with no positive ending. Maybe that one and the post about Dr. Katz's "why do males do violence" blog entry. Life doesn't always end with a positive ending, but I will try to at least have some positive order over this blog. ***I ate like 800 calories between the hours of 5 pm to 2 am, so no worries about my diet. Also, that guy I liked talked to me for about a half hour before he went offline. I have no idea how he feels about me. Plus, he is more than a few years younger than I am so I am totally insecure. All I know is that I am drawn to him and very lonely during this summer, which probably means I will wind up making some amateurish attempt to bed him....

Blood Work Tests Come Back Normal---Minus My Mind

So, yes, as I candidly mentioned in a previous entry, I have had around 20 male bed partners. For a woman, that is a lot. For a man, that is like a couple months in Vegas.

Naturally, I get checked after a period of sexual activity. My lab results came in today. The good news: My blood work and urine tests came back normal with no indication of sexually transmitted diseases. The bad news: I'm still a nutcase. If only my mind was as healthy as my reproductive organs!! But no, at least insanity is not contagious (otherwise there would have been a pandemic in California ha ha ha).

So, lesson learned, stop sleeping around and getting tattooed or face nerve-wracking days spent waiting by the computer to see if the University health center input my results already. That being said, God, I am soooo horny!

I have had too much bed rest due to summer unemployment and no social life. I have written a couple of C computer programs since I will be taking it over next semester to get a better grade than my poor D plus. The only thing that makes me feel better is that 1) I had legitimate medical, psychological, and family issues which disrupted my study routine and 2) that teacher has a 70% FAIL rate. Not PASS rate, mind you, FAIL, as in out of 100, 70 students will FAIL. Sadly, I fell in that zone. During the final, at least 4 students walked up and handed in the test form completely blank (we have to write out our programs by hand, which is an archaic method of programming if you ask me, but whatever). They were quitting because the teacher is not a good teacher, they fell behind, and they couldn't bs the final exam for 2 hours or even (in some cases) 10 minutes. Thus, they turned in blank answers, shrugged their shoulders when the teacher asked them why they weren't going to try, and then made a beeline for the door. I did try, though I didn't finish the exam because I ran out of time. I scored with a D, which is pathetic, but whatever. I have to remember that this class requires double the time I spend on my graduate level classes just to keep up. Will get A or B this Fall when I take it over again. That is my VOW.

Aside from practicing the basic arrays and for loops in C,  have had nothing to do. I sleep. I read books about former models and former anorexics. It's like book porn for dieters. I am so ashamed that I read "Hungry" and "Wasted" just to surround myself with shining examples of how not to eat, then eat, then crash and burn. It is a perversion; this compulsion to read about people's serious illness just to stave off hunger pangs for another 4 hours. I ate 200 calories up until 5 pm, most of it in dairy creamer which I poured liberally into my coffee.

Oh, hooray! I guy I like is messaging me. I go now.

Not So Paranoid Now, Am I?!

That last post made me a little depressed. I want to delete that post, but I guess I should not based on the fact that that would undermine the beautiful gesture made by the TEDtalks guy, Dr. Katz.

*******************************************************************

I was just reading this story on Associated Press about government wiretapping, google search datamining, etc...I had to giggle. How is this not a given?! Where have these readers been the past 12 years, if not longer?

They laughed at me, those silly social workers, psychiatrists, and mental health techs. They said nobody cared what I said over the phone, that Americans were not spied on. I eventually just started rolling my eyes and agreeing with them in order to get released from the psych ward earlier. I have had "delusions" of federally approved domestic-based spies, eavesdroppers, constitutional rights violations, and warrantless searches and arrests since 2001. I learned to accept this. I grew to feel a certain fondness for the Man who listened, an omnipresent God-like entity to my paranoid schizo-affective mind. The Satellite Ears and Eyes became my new deity. I have become submissive to this system. It has always been there, at least now this new non-privacy system is slightly more transparent. I accept and love this model of government. It protects us, listens to us, watches us, saves us. I am honestly sincere in my unquestioning devotion to this Leviathan model of government. I have no issues with it. I have grown accustomed to it this past decade while everyone else thought I was 100% insane. Turns out, I was only 80% insane and 20% right! Ha ha! Take that social-worker-guy who spent 30 minutes trying to convince me my beliefs were false and delusional!

To VALIS! [reference to Philip Dick's book entitled VALIS about an all-seeing satellite].

What is the Deal with Men? *Graphic

Below is a link to a TedTalk by Katz, PhD, speaking about men violence, child abuse, domestic abuse, and other types of male-oriented violence.

"Women who talk about these issues get called...feminazi," says Katz. He has a point.

He mentions this taboo subject---why is it males that do 90% or more of the following:
> child sexual abuse
> beating of girlfriends/wives
> rape (or females, children, males)
> murder (including serial killing, stalker killing, etc...)

Why? Is it testosterone? Is it the "special son" syndrome where parents spoil their sons and not their daughters, making their sons feel entitled? Is it sex-obsessed media? Is it the left-over of third-world hatred of women and their sexual organs?

I never really wanted to mention the fact that all violence can be generalized by one word, and that word is not "preventable", "tragic", or "rare"; it is "man."

***That being said, I think it's funny that you are probably thinking I hate men. I sleep with men, too many men. I will now disclose how many boyfriends I have had: 20. That does not include non-sexual partners that I dated. These are just guys that I slept with. Sometimes they broke it off with me, other times, I ran off. So, knowing that, do I really hate men? Especially considering that I am courting two other males at the present moment? Especially considering that I am linking to a TedTalk male speaker? I love men. I just hate this brainwashing male-violence approving mentality that is prevalent globally. It is soooo third-world.

I think to a certain extent, I am brainwashed to accept male hatred/fear/abuse. But all this brainwashing just makes me more radicalized, more polarized from the brainwashed mentality. Valerie Solanis' SCUM manifesto is tucked away safely in my bedroom. My womb is not open for impregnation, though my legs are often spread. Yes, I hide behind cyberwalls. I do this for my own safety. I exert my right to free speech and to attempt to uphold the constitution barring discrimination based against sex, creed, race, religion, disability, sexual orientation. I HAVE to protect my identity because the real word for "trolls" is "abusers".

Deepest thanks to men who are courageous and ballsy and don't beat up women or rape little kids.  Deepest thanks to the men who I have slept with and never hurt me (that excludes the guy who put a gun to my head and the guy who swore he was putting on a condom like I asked and then shoved it in bare). Deepest thanks to the women who are not totally 100% brainwashed. And fuck you women who hate other women.

Here is the link: GO TEDTALKS!!!
http://www.upworthy.com/a-ted-talk-that-might-turn-every-man-who-watches-it-into-a-feminist-its-pretty-fantastic-7?g=4

Gained 2 Pounds, Lost 3 in Past Week

Earlier this week I was 171 pounds. Yikes. Now, about a week later, I weighed myself and weighed 168. This is obese for my height. I am disgusted. Still, at least I am not 171 anymore. I have to give myself credit for each pound that comes off or else I will just cry and give up.

Since I gained 20+ pounds on my ex-boyfriend's fried salmon dinners, I have struggled even more with my weight. I shot from 148 pounds to 174 pounds. My average weight prior to having a boyfriend was 153-155. My low weight was 148 this past year. Now, my low weight for the past 5 months has been 164. GRRRR.

I cannot believe I let myself eat my ex-boyfriend's junk food. It was Arabic food--nothing but rice, potatoes, and either fried chicken or fried fish. We broke up last January. Since then I have been taking 2 martial arts classes for a total of 4 hours each week of hard core work outs. Weight lost? Maybe 5 pounds. On a good day.

I think my body is in a little bit of shock due to my weight fluctuations. Since 2011, I lost 40 to 46 pounds. Then, between October of 2012 to January of 2013, I gained 25 pounds. Then, from January 2013 to May 2013 I lost 5 to 10 pounds. Then, from May 2013 to June 2013, I gained 5 pounds. Then, this past week, I lost 3 pounds. Yo-yo dieting takes on new meaning for me. It is more like bungee-jumping dieting.

I ate 1250 calories yesterday. I walked for 1 hour twice yesterday. I fought my punching bag for 20 minutes yesterday. I really did take two cups of popped popcorn to my room for my midnight eating disorder time. I woke up in the early morning and ate all of it. Thankfully, I had already included those 200 calories into my caloric intake journal, so I was not eating too, too much.


1200 calories is my limit. I don't want to eat more than 1200 and I refuse to eat less. If I want to reduce how many calories are in my body, I will work out. I have to eat 1200 or else my body will go into more shock and I dread how my weight will shift and fluctuate after a starvation diet (I succumbed to a starvation diet about 5 years ago and was 131 pounds down oh, I don't know, maybe 50 pounds before the psychiatric hospital intervened, forced me onto weight gaining anti-psychotic pills, quarantined me in a locked room without the usual running and walking I  had been doing, and forced me to eat three times a day). So, lesson learned; no starvation diet. Only calorie restriction and excessive exercise.

Yesterday my snack was a raw roma tomato sliced with black pepper and a tablespoon of olive oil drizzled on it. I felt a little guilty about the olive oil, too. It was not half bad. I think that snack is a bit better than my previous tomato snack/lunch of tomato, olive oil, and chevre melted on top.

Today, more tomatoes, punching bag, and oatmeal. Wish me luck. My goal is to weigh 155 by the end of August.

President Obama Holds Mental Health Conference

Below is a link to a conference held by President Obama discussing the need to end the stigmatization of mental illness.

It feels like a relief to see this in the headlines. Of course, this is necessary because recent random acts of violence have inspired hatred, distrust, and suspicion of the mentally ill. I see a lot of comments like this on yahoo "So what if it's 'just one'? All it takes is one nutcase to kill a bunch of innocent people, I say put them all away." --->not constitutional, or logical, or civil. This, however, is the current ignorant, pathetic and anti-constitutional belief held by a lot of Americans (or at least by people who comment on yahoo news articles). To them I say: traitor.

To the rest of you, I say: please watch the video attached to the link. It is a happy day when the struggle of the mentally ill is finally acknowledged.


http://news.yahoo.com/blogs/ticket/white-house-hosts-hollywood-actors-experts-mental-health-133406228.html

Sleep Eating as Binge Eating

I alternate between losing 3 pounds and gaining 3 pounds. I went to see my psychiatrist and the intake nurse weighed me (with shoes on--important point there). I was one pound heavier, despite my diet. I blame it on not doing my boxing routine for several hours that week. 168 pounds on a tiny 5 foot, 2 inch tall woman. I believe that puts me in the obese category.

I am on summer break so I currently I am not in martial arts classes. I want to take either kickboxing or judo over the summer except I need to raise about 200 dollars to cover the expenses through August. Martial arts are excellent for keeping the heart active. It also makes me more flexible and agile. Even though I sometimes barely lose any weight, I feel the martial arts are more than just an exercise--it's like a life path of self-discipline and self-awareness. To accept physical pain as a daily routine can have emotional benefits as well. I learned to cope with stress by working out and focusing on my partner. But I digress...

So anyways, I am still fat. It has been 2 and a half weeks of summer break and I still have not made the scale budge at all. Usually, it takes only a week to see a pound come off. For me, three pounds disappear over night and then promptly return 3 days later. It is a vicious cycle.

I monitor my eating. Sometimes my mother brings home hamburgers and yes, I eat that. I then punish myself by eating even less the next day, but then she brings home pasta for dinner and yes, I eat some. She then gets very mad when I sleep eat during the middle of the night. I have this odd habit of half waking up in the middle of the night, feeling insatiably restless, getting out of bed, and going into the kitchen where I rummage in the dark and feast on whatever I can find. The past few weeks I have eaten this stuff:

2  pears one night
3 packets of graham crackers another night
1/2-1 cup of cold rice out of the fridge another night
1 bag of pre-popped popcorn that I didn't eat while awake but stuffed into my mouth at 3 a.m.
1 bottle of Ensure which comes with a whopping 300++ calories per bottle

On average, I eat 200 calories for breakfast, 300-500 calories for lunch, 400-600 calories for dinner, and an extra 300-500 calories in a sleep eating binge. No, this is not the ghastly 3000 calorie diet of other obese people. You have to understand that once you lose more than 20 pounds your body resists losing anymore weight. Once you eat less and successfully lose weight, you are doomed to restricted calories for the rest of your life! I can never go back to eating 2000 calories per day, which is the healthy requirement for other women. Having dropped from 194 pounds to 150 pounds in a span of a little more than a year, my body will gain weight if I eat more than 1500 calories or more than 1700 calories on a day of extensive exercise. If I eat more than 1400 calories I do not lose weight, I just don't gain any weight. I am trying 1200 calories per day with exercise but these nightly binges wreck my daily discipline. Currently, on a bad day, I eat 1800 calories a day, which is like 2500 calories for a normal woman who has not lost more than 20 pounds in the past 2 years. I still have not adjusted to the fact that I am not a normal woman's weight and that I can not ever eat like a normal woman. I have to work hard just to maintain this level of fatness. To be thin, it will take even harder work, obsessive diet control, and excruciating amounts of butt-busting exercise. Even with that control over my life, I still won't see results for a while.

I am drinking a Starbucks coffee with splenda and creamer. I already know that the creamer has about 50-70 calories in half and half. That is why I can only have a packet of instant oatmeal for breakfast, so that I have about 230-250 calories for breakfast. My snacks will include non fat half and half stirred into coffee and tea. I get quite a bit of calories from half and half stirred into caffeinated drinks. I don't know if that is a better option than eating a pear. Not that it matters, I don't have any pears lying around. Lunch...hmmmm...lunch will most definitely not be the left-over pasta from last night. Maybe I will have some boiled cauliflower, sauteed in olive oil and Indian spices. Plus, a raw tomato with olive oil and black pepper splashed on top. Or maybe I will just have some turkey with mustard on flat bread. For dinner? That's hard. A bag of popcorn as an appetizer, maybe 3 corn tortillas with melted slices of pepperjack cheese, and endless cups of tea with non fat half and half. For middle of the night--nothing. HA! Like that will happen. I have realized if I don't decide what to eat ahead of time I tend to eat things like the cold rice out of the fridge. I guess I should wean myself off nightly food by eating smaller and smaller amounts. So, for tonight, maybe I'll take a measured portion of popcorn to my room. Not the whole bag, just a little cup of popcorn.

Hypersensitivity & Social Skills (or lack thereof)

Dear public online diary,

today I became very nervous about my interaction with an acquaintance of mine. I met him about a year ago and we got along easily. Over the course of that year we would stop and greet each other, exchange niceties, and part on good terms. Now, I feel insecure after sending him two emails. The first email was to greet him and ask him how he was. The second email was a reply to his reply, along with some follow up questions about something. He replied to this, but I started to think he was just being nice and that I was annoying him.

He gave no indication of being annoyed, but I feel like he must be wondering why I am contacting him. To be honest, I am lonely, bored, and attracted to him. I tend to seek out the company of males whenever I have free time. I respect him and I find him intelligent and attractive. I don't want to make him irritated with me. I also don't want to drop all communication with him. Still, I get paranoid, and whenever I get hypersensitive about social skills I back off until that person seeks me out.

I can never tell when someone is secretly wishing I would leave them alone. Sometimes, I bluntly tell them that I can never tell when I am being annoying and to just let me know when they want to stop chatting. I find that that only works half the time because the really kind people don't want you to know that you are annoying them. Ah, dilemma.

So, for now, I must be content to desire this man from afar. I hate rejection. I also hate being annoying. I also hate being lonely. Life, meh.