Stelazine Diaries Pt. 5

help talking scale scale is hiding kill your scale cat scale

November 12, 1982

Dear God,

I know it’s been a long time, but everything has been going so well, I forgot to write!  This was, until I realized that the reason I was having such good luck was because it is the time of  the declining sun i.e. the holiday season.  I ALWAYS have good luck this time of year. (not so much anymore, I don’t believe in “luck” anyway, plus, I hate darkness now).So it’s no surprise good things have happened to to me. Well I know what happens later on, though.  I get bad luck all through the next year and it’s always terrible.  (I don’t remember fall of 1981 being anything special, it sucked as well…more of the superstitions that used to run my life…)  So what I want to do is save some of my happiness from the declining sun, and give it to the time of the rising sun.  So, I must sacrifice a lot of my happiness till January.  And on January 1st adopt a positive attitude and use the happiness.  This means if something good happens to me during this holiday season, I will just say its because of the declining sun, nothing else.  And by doing that I will be taking a measure of the happiness out of it to save for the new year.  I also should spend a reasonable time being “Bah Humbug” or complaining about everything (Things aren’t that great!).  Please bless me on this new prospect and hope there will be happiness in the new year.  I might tell my therapist.  Good Day.  P.S.  I’ll probably start writing daily.

November 13, 1982

Dear God,

I had my share of misery yesterday on the job, so maybe my happiness will be given to me sometime next year when I need it.  Also, some happiness is taken from me by dieting the declining sun.  So I should be happy, come the new year.  To-day I’m going shopping with my sister, but since I’m in the “fat forties” I won’t try anything on.  Good Day.

November 14, 1982

Here are my complaints for to-day.  Here is my bah humbug so that I mayb find things to be grateful for in the new year.  Sorry for the x-tra news??, I am ungrateful because I’m not getting along hardly at all on my job, I STILL don’t have the car,  I’m STILL in the “fat forties” and my life is crappy all around!!!!!  So there!  Bah Humbug to this lousy season!!!!!!!  Good Day

November 15, 1982

Dear God,

Cvetch, Cvetch, Cvetch, Cvetch, oh, Cvetch this is my negative attitude.  Ha! Ha!  Remember the real good comes next year.  I will make it.  Good-Day.

November 16, 1982

I”m gonna work on the nobodys project today definately.  (do not know what this is.  I dreamt up a fantasy rock band called the nobodys when I was young, maybe that?) Definately a good….?  This shows I’m not working my ass off just because it’s this season.  SO THERE.  That should bring me some happiness in the new year.  One good thing about the new year is that I’ll be thin!!!  Save the fat for the old year.  YEAH  Ode to the new year.  Good-Day

November 17, 1982

Dear God,

I’ve got nothing to say exept if those tickets cost me my job, I don’t want them.  I mean it.  I want to get good at my job.  Good-Day.

November 19, 1982

I’ve been saving my happiness for the new year.  I don’t have much time till this season is over.  Then You!  Dear God.  Good-Day.

November 28, 1982

Dear God,

I’m in trouble.  I’m acting all wrong with the people on my job and I think all the progress I’ve made with them is going down the drain.  I hope not?  Oh well, maybe I will have to sacrifice relationships and not complain about them for happiness in the new year, then maybe I can be friends then when I’ve held onto my job longer.  I don’t know.  Good Day.

November 30, 1982

Dear God,

I’m in trouble, HELP!  I walked off the job early because I felt ill, and Teddy’s pep talk.  Maybe he’s right.  I do have the potential to be the best.  He said I had a “Yiddish coup” (He’s Jewish)  He says he has faith in me to become the best, and the only reason he’s kept on is that faith, and that sometimes I try.  But I haven’t been trying that hard lately.  All this cursed stuff about Denny and Jim have broken my blessed concentration which has let me keep my job as long as I have.  All this thing about Jim dropping in the store, and Teddy telling me Denny has a crush on me has got to stop.  It is not important.  What is important is whether I hold onto this job or not, whether I do good and winning the human respect of others.  Not this lovey dovey crap (‘scuse me).  I not made for romance.  The Milquetoast are good enough for that (for now).  Well it looks like I”ve talked a lot.  More tonight or tomorrow.  Good-day

December 3, 1982

Dear God,

Sorry for not writing, but my thoughts have been preoccupied with my work.  Well today I’ve held onto my job for five weeks, which is usually the quitting point for me.  But this time is different, even though I shouldn’t ask for blessings in the old year, I WANT TO KEEP THIS JOB.  It’s the best job I’m going to find anywhere with my experience, age, and job history.  I need to keep this job for the money, the stability and the car.  Please help me DEAR God.  Good-day.

December 4, 1982

Dear God,

So revenge time is here again.  I will show Mother how skinny works, with a little help from my friends.  I will get them from a doctor and get just enough to get down another 10 pounds, just to show her what thin IS!!  She won’t say I’m doing bad again!!!!  She’ll be sorry!!!!  Oh, I tell you she’ll be sorry!!!!  Please give me the strength to keep my job.  Good-day.

Here ends the 1982 diary.  I put a few pages here and there and comments later.  Here they are.

Lucky I didn’t become anorexic…2/2000

July 10, 1999

Since I wrote this diary in 1982, my life has been an endless series of ups and downs.  I did finish college, but never got a professional job.  As a matter of fact, I still lose jobs at an alarming rate, leading me to think it is time to get benefits.  Nothing good has really happened to me except getting “saved” in 1995.  All the old ones are gone except Uncle S who is 100.  Now my Father’s generation are becoming the old ones.  My Uncle A is 83 or 84.  My Father is 78, and even Uncle M is 70 or so.  My mother is gone, too.  We never really made up.  My sister was (and is) really the only child in this family.  Now she is married with a son, and working in her field.  Her husband is a jerk, and in medical school.  Our dog was given away just before Mother died.  Nothing ever happened to me:  no marriage proposals, no great job offers.  I don’t even have a car, or a job at the moment.  I will be evicted from my apt.  I am 225 pounds–100 more than when I ended my diary in Dec. 1982.  My teeth are rotting away and I can’t see a dentist, my health is worse.  I have a few grays in my hair now.  If I knew my life was going to end up like this…The only thing that keeps me going is God.  He says that the enemies of the righteous will be punished, and that there will be no pain or poverty in Heaven.  Our enemy, Satan, works against us every day, because he is mad that we gave our souls to God’s Son Jesus Christ, and he will do anything to mess up our lives.  That, and prednisone.

Our Father

Who art in Heaven

Hallowed be thy Name

Thy Kingdom Come

Thy Will be done

On Earth as it is in Heaven

Give us this day our daily bread

And forgive our debts

As we forgive our debtors

And lead us not into temptation

But deliver us from the Evil one

AMEN

July 10, 1999

Got up at friend’s house and went early to her job.  Her crap ass boss is making comments.  Piss on you!  I went to diner down the street and ate caloric goodies for $7.42 in all.  $7.42!!  I did not get that much.  Came back and joined crew here for lunch.  “Lunch” was one burrito and a weak cup of ice tea.  Yummy!  These people here do not feed you right.  My friend wants me to clean her house for free.  Never!  Clean your own D___ house you lazy pig.  Her house looks like it was hit by a TORNADO!  My friend got one little bitty assignment to do.  Whoopee.  Now it is punch-out time.  Why are we not leaving.  I must go.  List of vite’s on next page was from Summer, 1998.  Vite’s are expen$ive.

Next are two letters addressed to my Compulsive Eating who I call ED…

1/2000

Dear EdCoe,

Thank you for being here for me all my life.  Without you, I probably would have been in the hopital much more even jail!  Whenever I feel frustrated, alone, jealous, or cheated, you are there to smooth the way.  I just go and get some goodies, sit in front of the TV or with a book and eat away the blues.

I never really have to think about solving my problems–and live always failed when I’ve tried anyway–because you are such an easy quick solution.  I never have to worry about a man since I attract so few and the few I attract are LOSERS (I only attracted LOSERS when I was thin, so why bother to date?)

I probably don’t get raped because my fat makes me so ugly no man considers it.  Why encourage sickos by having a nice body?

I don’t have to pay a lot of attention to my clothes, hair, and makeup since who would notice anyhow–I’m FAT!  I’m too darn poor anyhow, to get the clothes etc I really want, so hy frustrate myself?  Why be a size 8 to shop at Target?  Or Goodwill?  Or Freebies at the warehouse or I’s castoffs?  Come-on!

Why would I want to waste a nice body and nice clothes on the guys who ride the bus, who work at the menial jobs which seem to be the only ones I can get?  on LOSERS?  I will not slowly starve the rest of my life for a LOSER.

Well, “Ed”, you seem to give me benefits.

I see skinny single women being pestered and obsessed on by LOSERS and even forced upon by them when they don’t oblige.  Jill, and that man next door.  Suzy and the JANITOR who raped and beat her!

Y, who saved herself for 22 years to be wasted on a LOSER who ditched her a few months later…

Sarah and all the other women at the house being pestered by K.  The skinny therapists at the WW being chased around by lovesick clients…

Suzy being stalked by John and Larry.  (She acts too friendly too.  Be a little stuck-up, they won’t see you as available then.)

I am a living fat reminder to my parents (parent) that they weren’t as great as my sister makes them look by her life.

I really hate high heels and panty-hose, and fat women hardly ever wear them.

I hate constantly shaving my legs and pits every 1-2 days in the summer, so I wear T-shirts and long pants in summer since I’m FAT.

I hate contacts and all the fuss–and will NOT do the surgery!  Why bother with contacts when I’m FAT?  Fake Blue Eyes?–Yuck!  Get a German Bitch if you want Blue Eyes and Straw Hair, Buddy!

“Ed”, you are a lifesaver.  I probably would have killed myself by now if it weren’t for you.  Why die?  Just go on another binge and everything will be OK.

Why puke?  My fat is a lovely man-repellant–and I hate men!  Being molested by an adult and other teens at 13 and my mean Father’s endless remarks solved that!

Even rich men like celebrities, business men, and the like even Executive Chefs, are ASSES!

Puking is ugly smelly and disgusting.  Being poor, I see food as a necessity–not something to be wasted.  Besides the Lord would kill me!

Fat and poor.  Poor and Fat.  Always the same.

Dear “Ed” as Enemy,

You Asshole!  You have stolen my life!

I have eaten away my ambitions and dreams and used YOU as my excuse!

How many times have I been denied jobs because I was FAT?

How many times have I avoided social situations because I was FAT?  And used You as an excuse for my social ineptness?

How many times have I walked out the door with no shower, hair in a mess, yesterdays clothes, teeth unbrushed–since it didn’t matter because I was FAT?

How many times have I used sloppy table manners–even in public–because it didn’t matter–I was FAT?

How many times have I worn my lunch on my shirt and not bothered to wash it off because I was FAT?

Why be nice to people?  They already hate me-I”m FAT!

Why not sleep all day?  Why get up early?  To face the  jeering masses?  I’m FAT.

Why care about screening for diseases like cancer and diabetes.  Do I really want to live so long?  FAT?  Who would care if I got sick?  Really sick?  I’m FAT!  Only skinny girls get sympathy–admit THAT.

You have limited my life since I can’t participate in physical activities anymore.  Fat Rap

I can’t hike or bike

Rake or skate

Or anything with a ball at all

I’ve tried

All I get is tired

Very soon.

I can’t dream of rock climbing, going backpacking,–or even playing volleyball on the beach I’m FAT!

Even walking to the store is a chore.

Catching the bus is a rush

When you’re FAT!

TV, TV, TV

And that’s all of me

‘cept the Library

And cheap restaurants of course

Who wants to date a HORSE?

Online is fine

But it ain’t real

I miss the amusement park, the water park, hikes, even the “beach” floating on an inflatable raft.

Now I stay ghost white year round

I miss tying my shoes and getting in and out of cars without puffing and groaning.  You cheat!  You Ed!

I miss my ankles, my face, my waist!  All enveloped in FAT, Ed!

December, 2007

Well, I read my 1982 “diary” again.  I can see, that even then, I was a ti w/o knowing it.  I fight the same fights I fought back then but I’m losing.  I fought not to FANtasize in 1982 and it’s worse than ever.  I fought my weight in 1982 and I’m fatter than ever, I fought depression and rejection back then and still do today.  As far as jobs go, I gave up altogether in 2001 except for the job I applied for and did not get this Fall.  The saddest part is that it did not have to be.  This lousy “life” I have was given to me by the satanist perp establishment who “cheated” me before I was born for “sins” I know nothing about.  All the struggle, the therapy, the prayers, the simple faith I had…WASTED ON perp-satan establishment of this world is gone.  That won’t happen until Jesus comes back.  wish I could blog this diary to show other tis that THEIR targetting started loong before they thought.  Well, I really trusted you, God.  What happened?  Have you turned from me or is my bitter cynicism that have now since ‘finding out” about perps too much for you?  Why did you you let those assholes lock me up and put me on pills then let me blame myself for it? V2k perp just called me a “whore” for this sentence.  I REALLY TRUSTED my therapist and my parents and thought people were basically good and that I was a piece of shit all washed up at 17…WHY?  My life was a waste.  I hope it’s almost over and not by my own hand.

December 15, 2007

God, all the GUILT that was put on me because I CHOSE not to remain at that HOSPITAL.  What terror I lived in that I would be sent back.

P.S.  As of 2004 Stelazine is no longer sold in the U.S., but other “old” anti-psychotics and the new ones (no better) are still being sold, of course, even to young children.  Hospitals still use Haldol (with pride) on angry or disturbed patients.  I read a Nurse blog where she extolled the use of Haldol plus Lorazepam cocktail in a shot for disturbed or angry patients.

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