Sunday, July 30, 2006, 11:40 AM - Dissociation & Switching
In my waking hours, I am almost always integrated, but when I sleep, the integration unravels and I can see the others. Last night was a sequence of broken images and despair. I feel haunted sometimes, because I know that I am not the original personna but instead am simply an echo of the now-incapacitated original. But the original personna is a Ghost and last night I was haunted by the Ghost.
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The haunting begins...
The Ghost is the original persona -- some highly diminished remnant of the original "Chris". Although technically dead, that entity somehow lives on as a spectral figure that sucks down any joy and light. In last night's haunting, I saw the Ghost. He, always, lives in a small, windowless locked room. His despair and loss is a nearly tangible thing. He writes strange symbols on the walls in various colors. Sometimes he writes text. He has some idea of the outside world and writes about that. He writes down conversations he has never been a part of. Whenever I am transported to that room, the Ghost percieves *me* as being the transparent spectral figure from the shadows and sees himself as solid and living. It makes me feel that *I* am the one who is Unreal.
And maybe I am Unreal. I am a falsehood created from bits and pieces. I've always known that, but if I don't think about it, I can sometimes forget it. But when I get transported to that room, I remember.
Sometimes I feel that the captive spirit in that room is what's happening in *real life* and I am just some delusion of an insane and badly damaged individual. I try to force myself to believe that I am real, even though I know that I was artificially created.
The Ghost had other things to show me...
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The scene changed, and I was a scientist in a project that had gone horribly wrong. It was supposed to bring about some medical breakthrough. But instead it had driven the test volunteers insane. I had recieved a call from a supervisor telling me that everyone who worked on the project was losing their sanity too and that I would be next. Even as the supervisor said that, I saw the dimensioning and proportions of the room begin to change and distort with the first onset of madness. I was afraid and I felt the weight of unforgivable failure.
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The scene changed, and I was at a vacation resort and everyone hated me. I did not know why I was hated, but I felt the simmering loathing from the minds of others. I hated myself too. I asked a bar tender why she hated me and she said she was tired of getting me mixed drinks. This time, I asked for poison instead so that I could kill myself. I wanted to die and end a life that was useless and full of hate.
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The scene changed, and I was on a beach near a hotel that was sititng on high stilts. I had been swimming for a while when suddenly the waves got a lot higher. There was another person swimming too and I was afraid that he would drown. I dragged him to shore but then he simply disappeared.
The tide came in and the water lever rose by 30' so that the stilts were underwater. My father, who hates me, was in the hotel bar getting drunk. With each sip, his loathing of me increased. He blamed me for the beach being submerged. I tried to tell him that it was just the tide and that it would reverse in a few hours. But he did not listen. He berated me and claimed that I had ruined the vacation he had spent thousands on. He humiliated me publicly in front of everyone else there. His words lashed like a whip. Aside form his words, I could feel the searing hate emanating from his mind. He wished that I could be made to suffer. In his mind, he wished that I would die a slow, horrifying death, and die screaming and gagging on blood and spittle. I saw into his mind the perverse joy he felt in the image of me consumed by unspeakable agony. He wanted me to die gagging on blood and vomit. He wanted me to die in the throes of some excruciating seizure. He wanted to see me die and he wanted that death to last and last and last.
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The scene changed and I was back in the forgotten room with the Ghost. He wrote the words, "And that is how it happened".
I awoke.
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( 3 / 1781 )Wednesday, July 26, 2006, 08:21 PM
I was pleasantly surprised when I got my paycheck today. I got a Step raise (from grade 7.0 to grade 7.1), which was worth an extra $42 per paycheck after tax. Too cool!
So it will be nice having an extra $84 per month. It'll be especially useful now that gasoline is $3.25/gallon and rising (thanks, BUSH!)
The job's going pretty well. I only have 4 more months of probationary employment. After that, I get another $200/month (going from grade 7.1 to 9.1) I will be glad when I'm off the probationary status and upgraded to permenant.
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( 3 / 1236 )Saturday, July 22, 2006, 09:14 AM
I had a real super-thug roll into Pretrial yesterday. He was also the youngest defendant I've had so far. He was 15 years old, had already dropped out of school, and had been using drugs since age 10.
His crime was armed robbery. He took a baseball bat and mugged some old man for $60. Then, when he had the victim's money, he beat the man's face in with the bat. In fact, he nearly beat the man to death. The child had not one scrap of remorse.
This was no child of the ghetto either. His parents were people of means. His bail was $100,000 and his parents paid it!
So, a thought occured to me: parents should be made to pay when they raise sociopathic monsters. I think that when a juvinile commits a crime like the one above, the parents should take a share of whatever sentence is meted out. If the kid gets 40 years in jail, the parents should get ten years. I personally think that parents who raise juvenile criminals should be flogged (like they do in Thailand). I think a good dose of physical punishment would put these apathetic, absentee parents back on track.
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( 3 / 1183 )Wednesday, July 19, 2006, 08:51 AM - Random Thoughts
Our "president" is a rich, dumb cowboy. It never fails to crack me up that he just doesn't believe that global warming is happening. But then, he is a man of "faith", which apparently means that facts and research cannot change his opinions, no matter how wrong those opinions are. He just chooses to not believe that global CO2 levels are triple what they were in 1920. He doesn't believe that the world's coral reefs are 90% dead. He doesn't believe that the Gulf Stream is slowing down. He doesn't believe the polar ice caps are melting. Why not? Because he doesn't like science and doesn't trust anyone smarter than him (which is almost everyone).
The Dumb Cowboy thinks we're *winning* in Iraq. He just doesn't think about the fact that this war costs our country a billion dollars per day. He doesn't believe the Iraqi citizens want us gone (and they certainly do). He doesn't believe Iraq is experiencing a religious civil war (which we really need to stay out of). He just says we need to achieve "victory" but won't define what that actually is.
Bush just takes it on "faith" that more oil drilling, not greater fuel efficiency, is what America needs. He's willing to sacrifice our national parks for a few hundred thousand barrels of crude. He just cannot accept that the American indigenous oil reserves are 75% depleted, and the remaining 25% only comes forth grudgingly.
Bush really believes that tax cuts for millionaires is helping America. All its really done is help create the biggest national debt in American history. The reign of the Dumb Cowboy makes the Reagan Administration seem downright thrifty. Bush doesn't believe inflation is happening, even though inflation is a direct consequence of carrying too high a national debt. But then, Bush doesn't understand advanced mathematical disciplines, so he just takes it on "faith" that his own uneducated opinions are correct.
I will dance a jig the day Bush leaves office. He really is the Dumb Cowboy.
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( 3 / 1190 )Monday, July 17, 2006, 09:39 AM
I guess it's not a good thing to be too tired for too long. But it's hard not to get worn down when it's sooooo bloody hot day after day after day.
The trouble is, maintaining my integration requires a certain amount of psychic energy. When I get really fatigued, I revert into a collection of entities. I can feel the presence of the others in my mind. It's not scary or disturbing, but it is somewhat distracting.
I often wish that I could be as pure as Thistle or as self-disciplined as Ashen.
I am so tired. This heat wave is just downright terrible.
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( 2.9 / 1129 )Monday, July 17, 2006, 08:46 AM
I guess it's not a good think to be too tired for too long. But it's hard not to get worn down when it's soo bloody hot day after day after day.
The trouble is, maintaining my integration requires a certain amount of psychic energy. When I get really fatigued, I revert into a collection of entities. I can feel the presence of the others in my mind. It's not scary or disturbing, but it is somewhat distracting.
I often wish that I could be as pure as Thistle or as self-disciplined as Ashen.
I am so tired. This heat wave is just downright terrible.
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( 2.9 / 1325 )Sunday, July 16, 2006, 03:21 PM
It looks like my weight loss is slowing down. On the other hand, I'm now VERY close to my ideal weight. When I weighed myself at the gym, I was down to 187 pounds. That's a far cry from the 215 I weighed back in November 2005, and the 211 I weighed when I joined the gym in February this year.
Basically, I can sustain 6.6 MPH for an entire 5km run. I can walk/jog for 5.25 miles as well. While the sumemr heat never bothered me too much anyway, it bothers me even less now. I can even get up at 6:00AM for work and not feel exhausted every day. Yay!
I already passed my short-term goal (190 pounds), and I'm only 2 pounds away from my medium-term goal (185 lbs.) I'm not entirely sure if my long-term goal of 175 pounds is going to be possible, however. Since I've been jogging so much, I've gained a lot of leg muscle. But I can live with 185 if that's what ends up being possible.
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( 3 / 1167 )Wednesday, July 12, 2006, 09:17 PM
Today was the "Perfect Storm" of bad days. First, Wednesdays are really busy anyway. On top of that, today had one of the pointless staff meetings, so that ate up an hour of extremely valuable time. We're also running the investigation team with just two people (instead of four) because one person quit and another person has been on extended sick leave for 40 days straight.
Well, my boss has been outsourcing a *small* percentage of the investigations over to the Case Agent staff. Well... You've never heard such whining and groaning! Forget the fact that the average case agen is reading the paper or playing solitare by 1:30pm. My personal case load has gone from 5 cases per day to 7. Six cases per day is really the upper limit for what is reasonably doable in an 8-hour shift.
One of the Case Agents had the nerve to say, "The investigators should be able to do 9 or 10 cases in a day. Seven is nothing." Geeeeeeez!
So I got out 90 minutes late today because I had too many damn cases. Three of the defendants came in after 3:00pm, which means that I had to process them instead of writing case notes. And these useless junkies had the nerve to complain that it was taking too long! Ha ha ha ha!
Oh well... What can ya do?
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( 3.1 / 1158 )Sunday, July 9, 2006, 10:47 AM
Doug comes back from his vacation to Erie, PA today (I usually think of it as Eerie, PA). Doug gets a lot more vacation than I do, so he visits his mom twice per year. I think that's nice even though I am sorta lonely for a week. But he's coming back tonight. Yay!
The T-Mobile Sidekick turns out to have been a great Valentines Day gift this year, since it's the first cell phone that he's actually enjoyed using. He sent me a bunch of pictures of his mom's dog, Daisy (who also goes by the nicknames "Big Bite" and "Meat Loaf"). The dog is a chubby dauxhund (one of those "hot dog" shaped dogs).
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( 3 / 1065 )Saturday, July 8, 2006, 03:57 PM - Drrruuggsss
Y'know... It's just really hard to feel sorry for junkies. I see them all the time in my job, and the big problem I have with them is that they are RARELY interested in getting off dope. It doesn't seem to matter that their drug habit has driven them to a life of crime, made them unemployable, wrecked their health, and alienated them from their families. All they care about is smoking their next rock or shooting an ampule of boiling heroin into their veins.
I had a defendant stagger in yesterday who was so high that I thought he came in on a parachute. He was 29 and looked like he was 70. He weighed 130, had AIDS and HEP-C from using dirty needles, had never held down a job, had a 200 page RAP sheet, was on disability, and could barely keep his eyes open because he was so saturated with heroin.
The hillarious thing is that he is in a drug treatment program too! He does heroin IN ADDITION TO methadone. So my tax dollars go towards making sure this useless junkie gets extra dope, free AIDS medicine, free housing, and free food. His latest offense? He stole his grandfather's credit card and used it to get cash advances so that he could buy more dope.
The guy's criminal history showed that he just doesn't care abnout anything except dope. Every time he got arrested, it would follow the same pattern: 1. Arrest for some petty offense (dope, theft, burglary, trespassing, etc). 2. Failure to for court. 3. Re-Arrest on that charge. 4. Released on bail (as opposed to recog). 5. Failure to appear. 6. Re-Arrest on that charge. 7. Held without bond until trial. 8. At trial, some liberal judge would give him a verdict of "time served". 9. Out on the street -- REPEAT!
This jerk was at Step 4 yesterday.
Personally, I wish that junkies could just be "put to sleep" like diseased animals.
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