The message

Sometimes, in life, we stumble along... not knowing why...

Then, all of a sudden, the light ball would go off and show you a glimpse to the plausible meaning of all...

It is almost like the spring or fountain analogy used by Heidegger in "unterweg zur sprache" concerning how we are at the mercy of the Goddess of Language.

Yet, I have to clarify that, it was thousand years ago when I read the book and no longer am I sure whether my interpretation really goes along with his initial conceptualization... as Maxine Greene might put it... the confusion of interpretations...

An interesting thing I found (and I am not sure whether I have mentioned it before..) is that... the experiences associated with auditory hallucinations seem to be very well described by the whole idea of the Goddess granting us the access to speech...

It is almost like the faucet is dripping water, the Goddess had forgotten to turn the faucet off, or the Goddess plays with water with me... :-O

In any case, the water is leaking... either consistently or sporadically, depending on the situation. :-O lol

Did I mention to you before that, that is why I suspect Mr. Heidegger might also have experiences with auditory hallucinations or hallucinations in any other sorts to be providing an analogy so very appropriate for hallucinations-- and no wonder, the idea sounds so very foreign in my "normal" days or, more pertinently, my pre-psychotic era. I hope he is not going to turn around in his grave or try to sue me for defamation... Please take it as a compliment, Mr. H. lol

After the detour to the broken faucet theory, let me get back to the light ball.... which I actually could not recall until I reread the first two lines not so very long ago... lol :-x

The Light ball...

The light ball went off...

Well, in my previous writing, I mumble-jumbled about my trying to chase a customer away from selling something on ebay-- because I care, believe or not, about the customer as a nice fellow human being.

To recap even more, I woke up with this question "I can't do it", which was almost like a representation of obsessive thinking.

So I went to do my daily walk to make sure my bones and muscles are getting used enough...

I got that cup of coffee...

I walked across Broadway.

I saw the sun shining and St. John the Devine... and, I knew, today, it is calling me... (let's call it a delusional belief...lol)

I traversed that lengthy path... at times, jerking around like the big bad bug....

I pushed myself through that Amsterdam Avenue, the width, with which, only the depth the dire straits could compete.

I eventually move myself up those stairs... (accounting that movement as part of my physical therapy-- based on my yearning towards the ability for multitasking)

I rested at my seat in the Cathedral-- by the entrance, still quite a distance from the hall...

There, I was told, a service is going on for a writer...

A writer who had captivated and enliterated so many of the younger minds....

I thought it was the writer speaking...

I asked whether the chapels are still open because I would really feel like to get some messages from the abyss of nowhere to help me figure things out...

I did not know that all other sections are closed for the services until I finally moved my buggy butt to the hall...

I did not know it was a memorial service for this writer until then...

Since it was about time for me to take a seat, I sat down at a seat... and, it was when I heard this phrase, something like "I will not stop writing until I die"-- not out of my head but out of a real person's mouth...

I went like... :-O... that sounds familiar... :-O

From then on, I sat there, I saw, and I am taught (not quite sure whether I learn it or not).. life... the unfolding of life... the paradoxical contrast that make life "life."

Of course, my coocoo head went through whatever it goes through in similar settings...

I saw life...

I felt life...

The writer's family, friends, and the people that she had touched in whatever capacity.

Her life goes on with her own legacy...

At some point, my delusional self got the message that I did not have to stay at the premises if I do not want to...

Yet, I promised to stay till the end of the service...

I was not the first and not the last to leave and to drag myself down them stairs and move myself back to my home...

I came across a nice lady who walked past me when she was heading towards the service...

She asked me how I came to know Madeleine.

I replied that I did not know her and I did not know who she was.

It was just today I felt I should come to the cathedral for a visit.

I got home and googled for some information about this lady...

http://www.madeleinelengle.com/

62 books she wrote and I believe far more are yet to be published.

On another site, I found her quotations such as the following...

1. Just because we don't understand doesn't mean that the explanation doesn't exist. 
2. Of course. It's all been said better before. If I thought I had to say it better than anyone else, I'd never start. Better or worse is immaterial. The thing is that it has to be said; by me; ontologically. We each have to say it, to say it in our own way. Not of our own will, but as it comes through us. Good or bad, great or little: that isn't what human creation is about. It is that we have to try; to put it down in pigment, or words, or musical notations, or we die. 
3. Love can't be pinned down by a definition, and it certainly can't be proved, anymore than anything else important in life can be proved. 
4. I wrote because I wanted to know what everything was about. 
5. There's more to life than just the things that can be explained by encyclopedias and facts. Facts alone are not adequate. 
6. Just write a little bit every day. Even if it's for only half an hour — write, write, write. (and thank you for this gives me a reason or a citation to write-- although the language I use sometimes might involve not so good language or could be use as an example of how people should not use the foul kinda language... lol) 
7. --sometimes think God is a s--t — and he wouldn't be worth it otherwise. He's much more interesting when he's a s--t. (Can't find the article where the sentence come from... s--t... sadist? :-O lol :-x) 

http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Madeleine_L'Engle

Lessons learned...

What did I learn through this journey?

Fussy... fussy... still in my head algorithms that are very fussy…

One thing I know is… and I believe is…

I learned something and I had my reactions when reading the quotes…

The writer is still teaching… and alive.

Nothing was mentioned about the question I woke up with in my head at all...
But, fussily, I felt the answer, somehow...

Life-- and live to your fullest-- however you, the LIVER, define it. (And, maybe, again, the faucet is running... lol)

I can't do it... God... why do you make me so wrong?

I went to sleep with this question and I must have really slept on this question very well for I woke up this morning thinking about this question as well...

I can't do it... God... why do you make me so wrong-- or even more wrong than I already know?

The scenario is simple...

A wonderful customer I have on ebay came back to buy more....

I shall be happy and I shall be grateful...

In effect, I am extremely happy and absolutely grateful...

Except for, at some point, I could not stop seeing the possible similarity between the shopping pattern I had and hers...

Moreover, I can not stop thinking that I might be contributing to the creation of similar scenario in the others-- and, that is something I do not want.

Given that she is a BIG ACCOUNT and returning buyer in my experimental business that is still deep in the red, anyone in the right mind would just try to cut as much comer as possible to increase the stickiness of the clientele—which is especially important for web-based business when comparing to brick and motor stores.

Yet, the more I thought about it... the more I feel I need to do something about it... such as creating barriers for the transaction.

For the new listing she is interested in, I stated that the free shipping and handling is not applicable. When responding to her request, some part of me wants to just get done with selling off the items by not bringing up that man-made or alien-made rule. At the same time, I also intuitively think that... by enforcing and bringing up the rule and giving her the price I would want the lot to sell for, I will get the buyer to have second thoughts...

I am fully aware about the consequences...

For instance, by asking them to cover for the shipping fee after informing them they got free shipping.... this, intuitively, might result in turning her away from future transaction when, plausibly, the transaction might be tented with some negative feeling which would be an absolutely normal reaction.

From a business perspective, such occurrence would be absolutely non-preferable and this is why there are books, companies and courses dedicated to the thing called Customer Relationship Management (CRM).

In addition, there are so many people selling things. I definitely, will not be able to stop people from shopping... (not grandiose to that degree lol).

Yet, I have to do something about it... I can't do it....

Bu what could I do?

I spent a long time deliberating how to approach it.... and I ended up shared my personal experience-- disabled, seek relief on crafting, and bought too much.

All the discussions so far have rested on my observations and the hypothesis I derived through my observations.

It could be my cooking up some stories without any basis in reality and it could be anything else.

The customer did respond and we are still communicating... sharing ideas and stories through our narration.

Yet, it doesn't really matter whether it was me merely over-imposing the mental model I have built up based on my personal experiences and knowledge background or else...

What really got me tic (other than the ordinary tics... lol :-x :'-O) was the reality that I really can't do it...

I can't close my eyes and pretend the thought had never occurred to me.

I can't stop feeling morally irresponsible for deeds that I classify as wrong and unethical...

I can't stop myself from doing something about it... (but, I do have to admit that, at times, I do hide behind the shadow of social loafing)

But why can't I?

Then, right after I sent my response to the buyer last night, before I went to sleep, it occurs to me...

Whether it is a good business strategy or not (unless you wanna call it “good will” lol :-x), this might be an ironic way for me to contribute...

As I stated in my listings...
Part of the profit I make through the Ratology store will be used as seed money to provide supportive services for people with disabilities and mental health condition (temporary or permanent).
Well, I don't know when I am going to profit from it because, up to this point, I still have absolutely solid proof that I am making no profit (:-O) even if the Workers' Com insurance company decide to take me to court....

It would be much easier if I could make it into a gazillion dollar business-- there are a lot of good things one could do with that amount of money, and, in that condition, I won't even have to care about the Workers' Com thing or that GDF institution. (:-o Did I sense some anger there? :-O lol)

However, along the way, if the bonus I throw in will make people happy (which had happened to me before), at least, I am doing something good for their psychological benefits.

If the sharing of my story could prevent the history to repeat itself, even if it might not be so brilliant an idea on the business perspective, I am willing to face the plausible consequences.

But, am I really so very sure about all my mumble-jumble?

A contrarian like me? Belief?

Despite of all the discussion I had above, I still wouldn't wonder...

I can't do it... God... why do you make me so wrong?

And, this is why, when I was doing my ordinary daily walk, I turned to walk towards St. John the Devine to see whether anyone could just make some sense for me (in addition to maybe call my buddy again a sadistic bastard to for my big bad bug kinda motor motion... :-D Amen...)

And, that trip... led to another journey...

Answers granted... Maybe... nothing mentioned about the actual incident or transaction (and by the way, didn't I tell you that I have thought disorder? The reason why it is called thought disorder might have something to do with the ability for people like me to interpret things so very creatively... lol)

Big bad bug

The cold seems to make the spasm much worse... which had proven a hypothesis I had wrong...

Heat still aggravates pains and I am still stuck with icing (to alleviate pain, not to add flavor to cakes... lol)

I, thus, had hypothesized that, when the weather gets cold, the process of recovery shall be faster.

Yet, on the contrary, nowadays, when it gets cold, my spasms get worse and my body gets tight much easier.

Can' tell you whether it is something shared by people with spasms. The only thing I could tell you is that... on me, such observations are fairly consistent. (Yet, this could fairly well be my hallucinations since, again, there are not observable external stimuli cuz the degree of coldness could only be objectively measured by a thermometer and I have no intention of carrying one around with me lol... shall such belief sustain... we might be coming down with "embodied delusion"-- as opposed to embodied cognition... lol)

When the spasm is really bad, all my limps wants to do their own twitching and I have to tell them to stop-- so that at least I have one leg to stand and one hand to hold that cane.

Does it really work?

God knows...

Yet, similar to my hallucinations, shooting pains and spasms do pass...

It could be my yelling at them that work. Or, it might just be that... the time has come for them to pass... (Similar argument held by some people about whether it is the treatments that are working or just the time when the mental patients to get on to the wagon of getting well...)

Spasm... spasm.. spasm...

It then, occurs to me, that, when I experience spasms... I move so very much like that "Big Bad Bug" in Man in Black I.... who stole the nasty husband's skin and walk around a spasmic (is that a word or should it be spastic? lol) human being...

Apparently, one thing I have been doing a lot is watching the replay of the movies on TV... lol :-x

Yet, one thing I have to say is that the more I rewatch this movie and the more I see myself spas... the more I see the similarity... (and sorry, somehow I could not find a clip for how the big bad bug moves on the Internet... Guess it has something to do with the reason why they call the movie Man in Black but not Big Bad Bug... lol)

Man... don't you tell me that, just because we share some attributes and belong to the same group... Ratprincess is actually a big bad bug... lol

No.. No… if I keep my mouth shut and sit tight not moving, I could actually be classified as a relatively attractive muchachita…



By the way, the theory I derived for such observations is that... cold makes muscle tightening, resulting in worsening of impingement, muscle tightening.. and so on... (see diagram)

Observable outcomes would be me walking more and more like the big bad bug... and more frequently... lol


Yet, this is but a naive theory of mine. I would have to do some more literature review on the topic of cold and spasm before I could report back to you on what those diligent researchers say about it....

P.S., speaking of the big bad bug... reminding me of metamorphosis of Kafka... Am I getting there? My God!? :-O lol :-x

From a piece of crap, refurbished to recycling

It came up in my conversation with a friend, whom I was yelling at all night while hanging out the other day, the differentiation between my current state and the state of refurbished items.

Following is the Ratology Classification for these interlinked concepts (I am emphazing the word interlinked because the membership to each of these classifications are not mutually exclusive):

1. A piece of crap-- An object in such classification could be used or not be used... it is sort of like the classification of schizophrenia (something I have discuss profusely in the past few year) and Fibromyalgia (something new in my useless discussion lol :-x)-- both terms are used as a catch-all garbage can because patients assigned with these diagnoses exhibit symptoms or patterns of symptoms otherwise not classified or unexplainable. Fibromyalgia, for instance, might come handy not too far down the road for the health professionals (my hypothesis to be tested) to use as a label for my diffused pain pattern (which means I got pain everywhere when the pains are bad). I believe that people are often very ready to use this classification because it is one so very generally applicable while not adding any meaning or ways of reviving the utility to the piece-of-crap state of the object (which I believe is something I have the propensity for so very naturally and so very often) lol :-x
2. Recycled item-- something that could be reused while its properties might have suffered a bit during the recycling process (redistribution process) or as a result of the ordinary usage in its pre-recycled state.
3. Refurbished item-- something that was broken but is lucky enough that they actually could be fixed and be used at their highest capacity... Their capacity after being refurbished might suffer or diminish to a certain degree, yet, they could still carry out the tasks they are designed to perform without the need for deliberate alteration on the user' part.
   

For instance, I prefer to reuse the envelopes other people have used to mail things to me if possible because, with certain modifications to the current state of these objects, they still have the capability to be put to good use. For me, these used envelopes are not refurbished items since it takes a lot of work for me to figure out how to put them back to use-- and, this is why I would term them as recycled objects.

At the same time, once these envelopes are fixed by me to a state of being able to carry out the functionality they were designed for--- I could actually consider them as the refurbished items because they now could be used without further deliberate alternations on my end.

Of course, for some other people, these used items could just be pieces of craps and they would have been easily retired in the garbage can or the recycling bin.

Back to the discussion I had with my friend who got yelled at by me profusely lol :-x, the light ball went off at some point...

I am not yet qualified to be classified as a refurbished item-- an item undergoing the refurbishing process, maybe... :-O lol

In effect, on a second thought, I am more or less like all those used items, waiting for me to figure out or uncover the potential usability and the degree of recycle-ability...

As a matter of the fact.... some of them have also gotten retired by me and gotten dumped into the recycling bin (lol) because, despite of all my efforts, I just could not put them back to work (and hopefully, they do get eventially recycled in the conventional sense).

Unfortunately, with me myself, the option doesn't really exist for me to dump my coocoo head and my piece-of-crap state of the body (and plausibily mind as well)...

And, I guess this is the reason why I am so very obsessive about digging out the least possible sense of meaning out of the apparent (to me at least) meaninglessness in my life.

And, I guess, this is why I am trying so hard to make as much use as possible-- whatever part of me that still has functionality-- for, other parts still await to be upgraded to become refurbished.

lol :-( :-O

Meaning

There are many benefits to one's ability to work...


To begin with, the pay is much better than a disability check...

Second, it makes it so much easier to rationalize to oneself that there is some sense of meaning attached to one's own existence.

And, perhaps, this is why I am in such a state of existential vacuum... lol

Like what they say (or what I imagine them to have said lol), all else I do not have... I still have my blog... to share with you the phenomena I have observed in plain narration, or, to allow the recapitulation of phenomenology through the lens of narratology (a lot of big words but does the sentence make sense? At least, sounds very sophisticated... lol).

That is... if there are lessons learned, I will share them with you.

At the same time, shall I be not able to learn the lessons as well as I could, I hope some lessons could be learned through the collective cognition shared by the human kind and beyond.

All sounds right....

Except for, such is not sufficient to me...

Day and again, I look at my state of being... and I say.... there has to be more I could do.

There has to be more than merely posting items for a loss and to keep me busy on ebay....

That is... I have to start looking straight into my ebay experiences and regurgitate the lesson learned, or, force me to learn some lessons.

When all circumstances bring me down to face the bare reality of the meaninglessness of my existence, I have to try to learn to figure out, some way, somehow, the meaning of my presumed meaninglessness being...

(Gee, rereading this posting... it is sounding like I am blogging for the sake of blogging without having anything meaty to say... such shall I refrain since, all else I do not have, I have my mind set on not doing things for the sake of doing it... )

From Hallucinations, pains, to dorsal horn reorganizations

I went to see my psychiarist yesterday and did some talk therapy kind of thing since meds and talk therapy are the only means to get rid of psychosomatic kinda psychopathology such as conversion disorder kinda thing.

One thing came up was the question (which I raised myself)... is the perception of pain my hallucination? Does it really exist or is it just like the voices that I hear...

The problem is...

With auditory hallucination, I know that there are no real people talking.... what I hear or perceived to have heard has been generated by my own dear head.

With the nerve pain and the ensuing pains and aches, there is no easy way to tell whether the nerves are really pinching without high tech equipments.

Another thing that came up was whether there might be alternative neurological basis other than the hernia and stenoses.

When I was young, I had braces and the dentist told me that I am stuck with the retainer till the day I stop kicking because my tongue is the culprit that keeps pushing my upper front teeth outward.

It has been almost 25 years now since I started wearing my retainer on a daily basis... until the accident.

All of a sudden, I came to the realization that I don't need that retainer anymore...

Call it a hallucination, delusion, illusion or pure misperception, my teeth on the upper part also seem to align much tighter than the retainer was designed for.... :-O

The structural shift of my cervical spine or the straightening of it has made my tongue shorter or, more correctly, pushed my tongue backwards....

In addition, auditory stimuli (e.g., noise, voice, fast speech), visual stimuli (that’s why sometimes I have to move with eyes closed), vibration (e.g, car engine started), and, the attempt to comprehend fast speech, all of these and more could trigger or intensify my pain…

This is why I could not stop wondering... (in addition to the learning theories and how constant experiences of pains could lead to the strengthening of the pathway towards pain [sounds like unterweg zur sprache lol ]... practice effect in essence)

Since the tongue is pushed back for about an inch, and, since the spine is linked to my head... could there be unidentified organic fucked-up-ness in my head or restructuring of neuropathways resulting from the structural shift?

My psychiatrist asked me what it might be?

I replied something like, "What would I know... I am no MD."

Then, later on till this point, I kept on hearing the whispering of the word, either in public or in private ("in private" means I am really sure that no one else is talking but I am hearing it) … "Dorsal Horn Reorganization" in my head and it would not stop--- despite of my telling it to shut up or, later, changed the tactic, told it that I acknowledge the possibility of its existence- until I put its name on the blog.... lol

Is this an indication of my hypochondria? Could be.

Or, it might be an indication of my attempt to find something more than merely the term "abnormal pain pattern" to describe my condition... since I have long known I am part of that abnormal population and well preached about how my pain pattern is abnormal.

Or, maybe, it is just my delayed narrow band response to complete answering my psychiatrist' question.

P.S.---

Hallucinations and delusions could be creative. Yet, they are rooted in one’s background knowledge. This is why, before TV, TV related delusions or hallucinations would not have been used as examplar indicators in DSM.

My head did not generate the word dorsal horn reorganization out of vacuum… or via some telepathic learning mechanism (which would actually be excellent shall that be plausible cuz no more need, then, for burning the midnight oil... lol). This is a medical term I read before and somehow my beautiful head decided to have this piece of information retrieved.

At the same time, since I do not yet have the “belief” that what has happened to be is a result of “Dorsal Horn Reorganization,” the occurrence of this term is only hallucination and is not yet my delusion (I think so… ).

something more...

There's gotta be something more I could do with my head... I said to myself...

I could try to keep myself busy... but only so much....

There's gotta be something more I could do with my head...

Other than reading about how researchers hypothesize that people with chronic pain might have become sensitized by the pain they experience chronically...

Hadn't I thought about that? Mental model theory and the associated wiring in the head?

There's gotta be something more I could do with my head...

Dark Age

I tried to do dial up last night... and started finding my nerve pains to get worse... partially due to the extra amount of stress associated with the limited data transmission capacity of dial up connections, and, the grief and its ensuing consequences associated with going back to the dark age of narrow band.

The denial of green card did not even really make me feel so bad.... or maybe it is just too well masked... or maybe the time is yet to come for its impact to really hit me...

The lost of high speed internet connection... on the other hand, hit me in the face the moment I got back....

The need to disconnect in order to make a phone call and vice versa...

The trickling of bits per every other seconds...

Slow... slow and slower...

Low... low and it gets me even lower...

Useless... useless.. and everything surrounding me reflects my less than useful state....

Then, I went....

Lord... or Hell

The winter is coming and I can't yet to get back to the gym to keep myself from falling back to that seasonal mood of depression....

I am NOT going to allow the stupid issue of Internet connection to serve as a triggering event to turn me back to the dark age of depression... :-O

I am getting my high speed internet connection back through Earthlink... via Time Warner Cable's road runner again... :-O lol

29.95 promotional rate for first 6 months (and I might even be gone from my beloved America before the end of the promotional period. lol ;'-O)

I got everything arranged... subscribed to the service, requested to get the modem picked up today--- the closest installation appointment is next Tuesday....

Woke up in the morning, I was still feeling pretty awkward about this going back to the dial up thing...

Got some business taken cared of online... I got my own lazy butt out of my house and marched on towards my day's journey focusing on damage control and risk management.

1. Mailed the ribbons I sold... (damage control)
2. Physical therapy... (damage control)
3. Pick up the cable modem from Time warner office... (risk management and damage control)
4. Returned the overdue book to the New York Public Library and paid my fine... (damage control)

Four things I did the whole day and it took, from noon till I got home at about 7:30, the whole journey, and, the majority of the time, nothing going on in the head other than that pain central department and the small brain that controls movement and the nerves that causes my spasms.

Gotten back home, I plugged things into places... powering it on, hooked the modem to the coax cable, and to my baby laptop....

Somehow... the laptop still could not get on line and the light about computer activities did not go on on the modem....

Why am I still in the dark age of narrow band? The narrow band internet connection seems to be turning the bandwidth in my head so much... decapacitated...

Then, I found out... the Ethernet cable connected to the modem and that connected to the laptop are two different cables... :-O (tech support 101.. what are you connecting to where?)

When the network came back on, I saw in my heart a ray of shining light... out of the dark age again... at least, sort of...

Along the whole trip... when I was on a mission to bring the modem home... I was mostly operating more or less like a zombie... mostly shutting down my cognitive processing so as to block the senses of pain, and, primarily utilizing my small brain that works on motor control and brain stem, on other vial survival functions.

I might have not gone to far....

I might have not gotten too much done...

Yet, I got my mission accomplished... however small it might seem? (Or, just another day elegantly wasted?)

At the same time, is this what it really means… using computing technologies to extend limited cognitive capacity…. what they taught me in school?? lol

The awakening... American Dream

Road Runner is gonna start to cost me a good 60 bucks a month after the promotional period and the company is not going to stop charging me the fees until I have the cable modem returned.

After being informed by my adjuster from the worker’s’ com insurance that my transportation to doctors and physical therapist are not to be provided :-O, I took off from home about 2 PM to drop the modem at Time Warner’s office uptown.

It was painstaking, literally, to get down to the subway station.

It was an even worse journey to get out of the subway station at 215th and 10th Ave. because this is one of the rare stops where the NYC subway is actually above the ground by about 2-3 floors… :-x

By the time I got down to the road, I was about to retire to the horizontal position on the pavement…

Yet, there were a good few blocks to go before the mission of the day is accomplished.

I walked a few steps, stopped to rest, and sat down at whatever surface that could hold my bulging ass.

And, like what they say…

Because I could not stop to be slow… it kindly stops for me…

I walked pass a gas station.

I walked pass the inspection place for cars in New York.

I moved pass the bus depot.

And, with a right turn, I finally arrived at the Timer Warner cable.

Taking the waiting time as an opportunity for calming down the pain through meditation., I had the cable modem returned and the service cancelled.

Back out is another trip… requiring much more calculation… would I be able to climb up those stairs to take that sky-high subway since disability access not provided at the given station?

I, then, decided to walked across that wide street, where the gentleman driving the garbage truck kindly stopped for me and the rest of the traffic.

I arrived at the bus station and limped myself all the way up the bus in search for another period of zen moment for further meditation.

Along this trip, in search for my public transportation, I thought to myself… is this what God wants me to do? To see more of the neighborhood through my bare eye, on feet?

I also thought to myself… no wonder the department of homeland security said no to my becoming a resident alien—even me myself do not need to and want to be disabled in America.

The only problem… I can’t even handle the bus trip… let along a trip on the airplane, which would take over 20 hours to get home.

The bus got me to 125th and Amsterdam, where I used to hop on and off buses to go from one job to another.

Less than 5 months ago now… I thought to myself.

Such a sad little walk….. from being dropped off from M100 till I moved my own butt across Amsterdam and got on to M11, which goes along Amsterdam.

I could have waited for M 60, which comes from La Guardia Airport and would drop me right by Rite Aid next to my home—where I would be cooking my own meal based on nothing more than nutritional values.

Yet, I got on to M 11, got off closed to this Chinese restaurant, which sells me my one and only dish… thermo-nuclear beef with pig intestines.

They kindly served me my wine and I said and watched.

Then I realized…

American dream it is.. isn’t it?

I have always said to myself that I wanted to stay in New York because I am part of New York.

Yet, perhaps, this is but another one of those stories about those coming to find a living in New York--- or, to the United States in general.

Maybe it is just the awakening from an American dream in which I was unaware of myself being in a state of dreaming---

Is that what that I am experiencing?

Chatting with the nice people at work in the restaurant…

I came to the realization that… the 35th year of my life will pass and so will I move on.

Be it the native (? :-O) or the emigrants, we will, at times, live through the nightmare, which has been euphemistically coined as American dreams or vice versa…

Dragging myself back home… in the middle of Broadway I sat to rest.

I looked at the surrounding and I thought to myself…

I might be an invalid who cannot yet get back to work…

I did have something accomplished…

I returned the cable modem… a trip so very strenuous for me—yet might not be as bad for the others.

I have come to sort of understand the concept of American dreams and their relevance to me.

I have, again, been shown the ephemeral nature of my own existence.

I am about to get home—or getting closer to home… with dasein being the home—at least , that’s what I hope.

Perhaps, if one day I shall write a story about ratprincess in Ratology, I shall, at the beginning of one of the chapters, state, “There was once upon a time when there was a ratprincess who did not know that she was one of those living to fulfill her American Dream….”

Awaking from the dream or nightmare, what does the dream entail of?

A ratprincess with a steady job, which comes with benefits, and, with the need to reinvent her career while struggling between her career and her family.

Yet, the American Dream that seems to be most pertinent now is…

Just let me walk smoothly across the dire street humanly without the need to take a break.

It is a dream shared by many... and many sharing it along the same theme.

And, to be honest, my kinda nightmare is only firecracker grade---

There are others, chances are, at the fireworks level...

P.S. BTW, I am home.... lol

defeat

For the past three weeks, I tried to get back to work even for only 4-5 hours on Wednesdays.

I don't know whether it is the extra amount of movement involved in a short period of time when setting up the laptops, the extra amount of stress resulting from the need to get things done with certain speed limit, or the self-fulfilling prophecy in my head about the pending resurrection of nerve pain attacks under working condition.... or anything else you could think of regarding my haven't returned to work since June.... when the summer was here and when I was ready to take my mom all around town.

I don't know why but, one thing I knew is that, for three weeks in a roll, I went to work and the pains grew... to the point that I had to lay down on the office flower to get a sense of relief from the growing pains.

And, it did not fail either that tightened muscles and spacity resulted in my limping for a day or two or maybe three... cutting my mobile tolerance to 2-3 steps before a stand still and leading me to start walking with my eyes closed (of course not when I am crossing the road) in order to conserve the energy necessary for moving myself home...

I tried and I tried.

After the first week and when I was all in pain the day after, I spoke with my adjuster and she wondered whether I should come off work shall the attempt to return to work makes the condition worsen.

Yet, I wanted to try once more or twice more...

After a week, I was able to start moving up to about 10 steps at a time without having to rest.

And, on Wednesday, I went back to work again... and towards the later part of the day, I was in so much pain and in such a shitty state that I actually had to get off earlier than scheduled.

I got home. I rested and I waited for my body to recover... all over again.

The nerve, muscle and all other forms of pains as well as the tightening of muscle and involuntary twitching associated with the spasm... The amount of work it takes to get my body recovered to a "walking" state.

I want to go back to work... part time, full time, and over time like what I used to do.

However, at some point after I went back to work for the second week, I came to the realization that, perhaps, I have to really make a choice...

It is almost 5 months now after the accident... I was improving slowly but relatively steadily before attempting to go back to work..... I can not, at any cost, allow my body to cycle through the state kept on getting back to ground zero....

I have to let the body heal... (especially when I am now typing with my eyes closed to concern my energy for the thinking process... lol)

In pain and with a flavor of limping, I managed to get to the doctor's office to check on my condition....

He asked, "Why do you want to get back to work if you are so very in pain?"

In more pain after his examination and with eyes watering, "I don't want to be an invalid."

I don't even know how much that thought of being an invalid has an impact on me.

It is not about being physical or mentally disabled. ... as long as I am employable.

I could be facing my limited mobility... as long as I could find a means to work...

The whole journey home and the whole time till now...

It still shocks me, "invalid," the thought and the reactions to that thought.

Then, it was last night when my parents brought up the concern about how I am going to manage to get back to a working condition...

Then, it was this afternoon when the adjuster from the workers' com insurance company asked the same question.

I, yet, unfortunately, at the moment, do not have sufficient capacity to process that question intelligently... not because my repressing that thought, but because it was the thought that was driving me back to work and my thought.

Another question, a good one, asked by the adjuster was that, "How was it different between you in your room and at work?"

I had no answer at the point... then it hit me...

I stop all things, if necessary, and meditate.. (if what I do is what people mean by meditation).

I stop all thoughts and lead my body into a state of nothingness from top to down. And, I do it till the minor annoyances are calming down.

I do it even when I am walking down the street.. when walking on the pavement and, when necessary, when crossing the rod.

I rest however I could rest and let it take its time...

I meditate and I speak to my dopamine system, "Stop please or, at least, slow down."

It works... regardless whether it is really the neurotransmitters showing down in their actions...

It does not necessarily take away all the pain... but it slows down all senses, thoughts, and functions.

But, how am I supposed to meditate throughout the working hours-- especially when it almost look like I am sitting sleep, when I feel absolutely guilty about not able to accomplish the lightest duty, when my coworkers have to do my share of work, and when I feel the whole office so very accommodating while I am working like a piece of shit?? (oops... )

It is the College that owes me for how I am today and it should not be at the burden of the office I work at to absorb the damages.

So, why the title "defeat"?

Falling back out of work... for a cause (or a few of them or a cluster or clusters of them lol).

And, perhaps, would it be possible that I am actually not in pain and it is but my hallucinations? :-O

By the way, I found in my everyday delusional experiences that some people look at the events as if they are watching the Trumen Show and things unfolding are but fictions...

Yet, I bet you to think different... for it could me, it could be the others, and it also could be you--
I had never thought delusional thoughts and hallucinations would be my everyday experiences.

I had never thought I would be counting the number of steps and try to push some more when walking down the street.

I had never thought I would be in this state....

I thought that if it takes 6-12 months to recover, with my hard work, I will be able to shorten it to 3-4 months. But I was wrong.

I, like what my sister said, might just have to be settled about being one of those unfortunates falling on the other end of the spectrum.

The ramification of such thought....

1. What would your institution do for you shall you be in my condition? Anything different?
2. What kind of contingency plans do you have in existence?
3. What could be done to help keep down your risk to be in my kinda of situations (other than making sure your institution got workable chairs that would not collapse in the middle of a meeting that intends to save the inner city schools lol)?

And, of course, according to organizational psych kinda theories... who is the institution???

Ratology State Report

I think I might be caught in some pretty miserable state of being right now....

Had to get back from my third attempt to work early today because the nerve pain was just growing everywhere...

Took a nap and I had to get up from bed because sleeping too much could give me a headache.

Staying up for a bit longer, the pain gets aggrevated again...

Back in bed and head feels no good again...

No wonder I am a lost soul in limbo of professional grade...

The pain strikes... no state is right... :'-O

Pain

If someone had told me that pain could be debilitating, I would have thought to myself... how lame.

Do the bite and suck policy thing and get on with it.

Then, I had the pleasure to encounter the pain that had taken my phenomenological existence to the next level...

The combinations of nerve and muscle pains...

The pain that shoots up to your head and throb.. throb.. throb...

The pain that shoot down your toes and twitch twitch twitch...

The pain that descends to your feet and pinch like what needles and nails do...

The pain that live like the universe... contracts and expands towards the infinite expansion—in your neck, back, and moving towards everywhere else.

The pain that migrates and radiates.

The pain that could cause the bad tooth to hurt conditionally.

The pain that selfishly wants to take hold of all available cognitive processing capacities......

The pain that sleeps light and gets awaken by any alternative and minute cognitive processing.. .

The pain that revenge for being summoned... with diminished mobility and more pain, tightness, and pains.

Then, it gets easily remotivated by sound, speed, sight and anything else that could possibly result in heightened level of tension or stress.

The pain that could make a stubborn girl like me cry, almost involuntarily, like a baby-- and, of course, behind closed door.

The pain that leads you to understand that... shall I have complained before about my miserable being as a lost soul in limbo... I was just being a spoiled brat knowing no pain.

I had naively thought in my previous life that nothing could render me disabled for long...

I could be depressed like a dog, dragging my whole body yet continue to work.

I could be psychotic like any other coo-coos in the coo coo’s nest but I continued to collect data for my dissertation in accordance to the protocol.

I could be slowed down by the meds-- having the cognitive capacity of 1 bit per hour in the fiber optical world--- yet, I could still find a way to work.

That pain... could be the optimal lesson from the Gods... to teach me a lesson about the non-existence of internal locus of control in some inevitable domain.

Perhaps, shall I have surrendered to the debilitating impact of mental health conditions, I would not have to face that pain?

If I offically disclaim that I surrender to such will of Gods--- me being weak, lame and suffering, would the Gods be so kind as to take back that gift of pain they have bestowed upon me?

That pain...

And....

I did not know pain.

I still do not know pain.

May God gracefully bless me with ignorance to know no more pain and its consequences....

And, I guess, most importantly, may no one else have to go through this pain... (yes, a few drinks later to defy whatever it is, a few arias later in opera by Wasinton Square, and a few folk Russian music later in Time Square and so I say... not to be pretencious but simply as a word to God or Gods since I see noting conductie for the collective suffering of pain for the Human Kind... lol)

Bless the rest for I know I will survive in the grace of whatever has come and is to come... and given that I know I am still in good hands regardless of my complaints.... :-) ;-) ;-P
(for even if God or Gods try to get rid of me, I have been trained well enough by God or Gods to hang on-- even simply around somewhere in the limbo.... a place that should not scare me more (with reservation) than my current or my state of being for quite a while... and a state in which I might be better doing something good to people I care about.... :-O

And, by the way, made in Taiwan, I was not raised to believe in Gods in Taiwan... ask anyone else with similar back ground--- we just do it maybe the 1st, 15th days of the month or the major holidays such as the new year, the dragon Boat festival, the Middle Autumn festival, or the tomb sweeping day, or grabbing the Buddha’s feet when we need it, 平時不燒香, 臨時抱佛腳, so it is called (and apparently, similar expressions are available in India as well... lol)

Or, maybe, it is simply as... God is granting my prayers to let my family be sound and healthy and xxxxxxxx (the moral of the lesson is that beware what you wish for and make sure you could take the consequences if you believe in God or Gods... lol :-x--- and with due respects in the plausible existence of the supreme power in my capacities...)