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Last updated: Saturday, July 19, 2014 10:00 PM CST

THE REPORT

Fly wombat fly

HI!!! Hello? Who's there? Email is not obsolete
dumb my space page

July 19, 2014
I need to focus, let's take a deep breath. I do get it now. I think I understand it completely. I think I have come to this conclusion many times before, perhaps I didn't fully believe it because it was one of those science articles that everyone picks up and runs with on the internet and has a tendency to be click bait. I know I use the internet as my primary source of information and research but it is getting to a point where sometimes the internet likes to play the telephone game with itself. I swear it seems like everyone is just using the Daily Mail and not the articles that could be useful that is hiding amongst the celebrity mentions. If I intend on reporting on what I find here, I best be close to being right. Not just for anyone who reads this but for at least myself because I really need it to be right for my own sake (and I do correct myself, I'll admit when I'm wrong). And as I have said before my memory is still crap, particularly when I want to hurry. I also have a tendency that when learn something or reach a conclusion, it vacates the brain.

Sugar is addictive and affects the same parts of your brain as cocaine. You see how that statement sounds like click bait. But you know something, I think I believe it and I should be so thankful that I never got into drugs. Sugar and Cocaine release dopamine into the brain (Youtube blocked the Drugged show from NGC on cocaine. But the episode is still out there if you type Drugged in the search box. Seriously youtube, leave it up! It's for the good of the public). Dopamine is a key component in creativity. I don't feel like myself because I haven't been overwhelming my brain with dopamine lately in the form of sugar. So I get even more stressed out which doesn't help my outlook on life. But I'm still not sure if it's the true definition of depression. My dopamine seems low but could it be because I have always overrun my body with sugar as far back as I can remember (which would be yesterday) that maybe this low dopamine is the normal level and I'm just not used to this. However, on the other hand, it's like a lot of things aren't that fantastic anymore and I can't remember the right words to use sometimes or I mix up words (throughout my life I did that while speaking but now it's infiltrating my writing. People would correct me and I would usually reply "that too"). Then there's the fact that I'm still not associating with people right but then again that could be due to my track record. How can I feel comfortable or trust them when they always cause issues or have problems? I honestly can't be hallucinating this.

The conclusion seems to be here, but I'm still unsure in general (well I guess now I should understand why my GP is guessing so much but it still seems wrong since she went through formal training). We totally need a better way of diagnosing things, DNA treatments, full body scans more readily available, medicines that are better tailored to the individual--something, anything. Or at least rephrase medical research, stop it from becoming click bait with generalized terminology.

It just seems weird that while on the sertraline that I wasn't more depressed (it's magic through modern medical miracles!). Well from what I understood of it, that when it decreases the serotonin, that this would give the dopamine room to function. But it wasn't like everything was overly thrilling to me. I didn't worry at all and I could watch chaos erupt around me. I felt little if anything but it was neither here nor there. It wasn't like I felt voided, I just didn't miss it or notice that it was gone. I was chatty too, pointless and stupid conversations didn't bother me as much. But then again, my writing suffered. I always say that I'm not as bad as it could be--that for a crazy person I'm fairly sane (like I said before, not suicidal or homicidal, I just think everything sucks) so maybe I don't need something that's so strong that it knocks me on my butt for a day like the sertraline did. I almost seem to think that I just need to up the dopamine but then again, I can never be too sure and as far as I know there is no way to measure the amount of brain chemicals running around in the brain on any given day or to even know the balanced normal levels. Then again that kind of technology could open up a can of worms. I hear prozac ups dopamine but do I want to play that game again? It won't correct my brain permanently. I suppose it's the same way with things that can spur dopamine like people, places, music, or eating favorite foods.

It's just that I barely feel any enjoyment from writing and I can barely get back into the universe, I do feel voided in creativity still. A lot is riding on it and I'm working against a bad memory (hard to remember plot details or to be consistent in phrasing), but I don't think I can give up on it or let it go. This is quite possibly the only thing to me that I feel comfortable with, I don't want to lose it. I seriously do not know what I would do with myself if I didn't have writing. The boredom alone would be devastating. I still do write this easily but I guess because I don't have to plot my own life out six months in advance and make up things that I use. Then again, I'm trying to write a world that has poignancy or meaning--I'm not sure if I've ever done that in fiction before even if it's my biggest complaint about everything everywhere (I am a mess of contradictions but seriously it's like people don't try to find meaning or purpose).

Great. Good. I'll leave it at this. I think I can focus on writing better now. Maybe the function is still in here somewhere, it's just going to be different now. I just don't want to waste anymore time, I've done enough.

July 16, 2014

My life is so hard
Don't tell me what to do, DAD.
I do what I want

Dying my hair black
Sulk with Crabby Cat
Listen to Black Veil Brides
Lines encircle my sullen eyes

A curmudgeon at work has a crabby cat he tries to push off on me and an emo daughter. So when he says something preposterous to me, which is often, I have to counter with my best sullen teenager impression--which includes writing poetry. But I never have cared much for poetry so I go the easy route and write haikus (it's more emo!!!). He challenged me with a rhyming one though, so I had to throw down, which took a while. I think I might lack rhythm and only try to rhyme the last word of the stanza. Sometimes my brain likes to fart out incomplete stanzas--they get to go to the word document of no return. One of these days I should clean it out and see if there is anything I can do with it. But I don't think I will because I think poetry books are mostly a waste of time.

Anyway, I got the last half of the book done. Huzzah! I'm back to the point I was before I got off the happy pills and realized I was brain farting out an anticlimactic waste of paper (it was a better waste than most but not good enough). It might still need some accentuating (dress it up, take it out, show it off) but overall, I'm good with it. So now I must rest.

Chill out. I now have until 31 Jan 2015. We have been extended once again! And it don't stop, it keeps going on for-ev-er!

I will have to attribute my success in part to cacao nubs (I was $18 worth of weak! But it has no sugar, no alkali. This might make a difference.) I ate a few handfuls and noted that while I started to feel more like myself, it didn't have the same effect as the mass produced "chocolate." So the conclusion here is that it was the sugar that kept me going, that effected my moods, and wrecked my body ('But I loved you sugar, how could you do this to me?' 'How could I? You are mistaken, you let me!' 'You liar! You told me you were harmless' 'Am I?' 'Yes, and I don't need you!' 'But you do need me, you will always need me, don't you want to be successful? Who will you lean on for support?' 'Noooooooooo!'). Now that I'm off of it, I'm more burned out and unable to get back to the level of function I thought I functioned at. In fact, I should most likely take it easy because I'm still not 100% and the new 100% might be completely different than what I was used to.

So perhaps I was right and am due to get the old pancreas looked at.

I'd also like to share again (I'm so giving), I'd like to bring to your attention this cracked article (I love you, Cracked, don't ever change). This article mentions something that I've heard about before, inflammation.

Dr Blaylock newsletter mentioned inflammation many times before but it escaped me(I have a mess of his newsletters on my desk with interesting things in them. I haven't felt like typing them or even rereading them to summarize). I like to listen to him, he's not an idiot and is an actual doctor, but I guess due to his fringe existence, I take it with a grain of salt (it's obviously working for me so I don't know why I continue to doubt it).

But these sentences stood out: When you're fighting an infection (I have many, mainly respiratory and that one that invaded my ears), stress (that which I cannot handle, never mind the fact I think most of my stress is due to the fact that my immune system is always fighting so I'm always tired), or anything else that the body thinks is bad for it (most everything), your immune system releases proteins called cytokines, some of which cause inflammation. The apathetic mood produced by these little cytokines is known as "sickness behavior," and it's no coincidence that it looks a lot like clinical depression -- among other things, pro-inflammatory cytokines lower serotonin levels, and low serotonin does not exactly equal kittens and rainbows.

The inflammation is crucial to fighting infection which it appears that my body is not doing so well because the congaplex killed the majority of the infection off. Allergies, if I remember right, are also an immune system overreaction. This response also causes low serotonin. So basically, if this is/was happening to me then taking Sertraline (correction: brain hiccuped and I had forgotten what I was on) was quite possibly the worst thing I could do for myself as it is a serotonin inhibitor (given to me by the GP, taken due to the environment at work that finally pushed me over the edge).

Can I go quit everything now and become an eccentric rich hermit (you know my health couldn't handle being a wildlife forager for food)? This world really isn't working for me. At least there in my self imposed exile I won't be unwittingly destroyed by others with neglect and ignorance. It's hard not to agree with my thoughts that I was born to be a commerce pusher only to be literally discarded in a dumpster when I could no longer keep up even if I have made peace with my status (If this is the best I can do then I will own it and stand tall on the highest peak of garbage bags. Besides, someone has to do it anyway).

I'm also seeing a connection to this article and the vaccine fighters for autism. This article mentions that Hepatitis C vaccine is a bringer of inflammation. Babies are not vaccinated with C but are for A and B nowadays. Babies in 1983 only had the big 4: Diphtheria, Tetanus, Polio, and the MMR (Measles, Mumps, Rubella). So it seems to me that it's a possibility (of course, anything is possible) that it could still be partly the excessive use of vaccines themselves and not the aluminum (but that probably isn't helping), that could be causing an overkill immune response that attacks their brains. I would also like to throw in that these kids probably have a genetic disposition to autism as well.

Yaaaaaaaaaay! It's everywhere and all over the place. I need to figure out what my body is doing. I don't know anymore. Weird Al, take us out

Goodnight, indeed.

July 9, 2014
I get results?

Folic acid: normal
B12: high.

I should have known this was going to happen. Sure, it tells me that my intestines are absorbing things (well, I was unsure--I was hoping that this would be the solution the the low oxidizing rate of my blood). But I am eating supplements, namely trace b-12 minerals and neurocalm (which is B vitamins and taurine) as well as occasionally taking a liquid multivitamin and liquid mineral supplement plus my revamped diet of green things, and I have things that are rebuilding my intestines in the form of zymex (supports the healthy pH, maintains the proper flora) and ortho biotic (many prebiotics) plus the occasional mass produced Kombucha drink (a magical mystery drink that has some probiotics in it). So maybe I am absorbing things because A) Iíve overrun my body and it canít help it or B) It is because of the presence of the prebiotics/probiotics which normally arenít there or were killed off earlier in my life. or C) My brain don't care how much I pander to it, it's been damaged and it's just going to do what it wants.

I could very well be on the road to reconstruction but it may take more time than I originally figured (like right now! immediately! I eat pills, things should happen!) which is why I still have my problems. Right now I got my annual summer head cold but I feel like itís less severe (Iím taking like a half dose of Nyquil and one pellet of dayquil because I donít have congaplex which supports my immune system and is better for meand I donít have to cart around a box of Kleenex with me). And I still have my anxieties, occasional sleep problems, memory lapses, general irritated-ness, and thereís still the fact that sugar is not my friend. But therein lies some questions: Is sugar anyoneís friend? Is this irritation that I experience normal because itís always like I can never get anything adequately done because of lack of money, support, or know how, the right people, or technology? As I have asked before and will continue to do so: What exactly is normal? I might very well be sounding paranoid at this point in time but a lot of people around me are oblivious to the function of their bodies until something goes wrong, accept their quirks as something that cannot change, and compensate with stimulants. So what is it?

This test probably should have been done years ago. I donít think getting off all the pills for a week then having someone throw a monkey wrench in the brain works so I could properly spaz out would have given me any other viable result either. I just wanted to know what happened to me, I really want to make it a bit easier to exist in this world and not just in a 40 mile radius around me. You donít get it, I want to eat processed garbage, swell up like a bloated toad, and think itís totally normal. Iím not rich enough to have an entourage of health minders (and if I did know what was exactly what was going on I may not need an entourage of health minders). I donít want to be good at being hypersensitive and I hate that my well being is at the whims and mercy of others (I can only control it so far).

I donít want to feel like I'm only functional by being propped up by pills.

Let me tell you a story. So I was talking to the GP and I said I wanted to get away from the pharmaceuticals for a while because they didnít really cure my major malfunctions. She replied ĎI donít blame you.í But all this time, for the past 23 some odd years that I have been going to her, she was the one giving me the pills. Was I expecting too much out of her or the general practitioner title? When I mentioned that I wanted to test my B vitamins, she said I should be taking Folic Acidóthat pretty much signifies that she was guessing as well as I am now. I realize that maybe I should go to a specialist but I thought I had to go through her to get a recommendation otherwise the specialist might not take me. However, if modern medicine is this inexact what chances do I have with a specialist? Would all I would be doing is wasting my life and money (how much of this will the insurance cover? I'm already paying a lot to be this functional the hard way. Can I even find the right people I need?)? Like I said, the body isnít just one area malfunctioning, I believe that illness is a chain reactionóso if the problem originates in a different system then how can the specialist cure it at all?

A part of me just wants to let the natural stuff take its course but it would be nice to have a name to whatever ails me or a heads up if my liver and pancreas are still kind of damaged. Like I said, Iím not out of the woods, and I would like to speed up the process. I would also like to feel less edgy more often (but then I wouldnít be dark and brooding in a way that makes me seem appealing) but that may be a bigger issue than I can fixóit has a lot to do with what's beyond me. It would depend on the perception people have of me and it rarely stretches beyond being wrong. Iíve been told to not care about what other people think of me and to be what I am but it gets annoying when I am offered no viable solution, no real answers, and no chance at redemption. Itís also tiring constantly being the defense so I guess when I reach that point, itís hard to control anger/frustration even though I do anyway. It's a real conundrum, I know outrage is a emotion for simpletons who don't know any better and anger doesn't get any positive results or change that it demands so I often feel that anything I could be angry about isn't worth it but I must still feel it no matter how much I try to divorce myself from these emotions. Then I often wonder why I try to control this at all when nobody else does (is that normal?)

I'll take a week off before delving into specialist research, I guess. I need to go put together food then lay down with the heatpad on my face--the cold is in my ears right now. And set up the humidifier and sleep when I actually should.

Good night.

July 7, 2014
Here's some light reading for you, while we wait for my b12 results.

Also, here are some emo kid haikus that someone prompted me to write at work, because I know you love emo kid haikus (this is quite possibly my best work):

Nobody understands
Emo kid eyeliner smears
Everything sucks, ugh.

Crabby Cat eats souls
Devour what is left here
It used to be yours

Good night!

July 5, 2014
Yesterday, I pretended I was normal (noooooooooormal). I went out to a new cafe in town that is making an attempt to make healthy food without things like processed meats. I had curry chicken salad on a seemingly normal bun, and they had a few pieces of fruit with it. They had hot chocolate so I ate that too (it was either that, coffee, sugared/locally produced sodas, and sweet tea--all things I shouldn't eat above this. Then the family and I went out with the masses to Fair St. Louis at Forrest Park (this is generally avoided) which after some minor adjustments (the crowd kind of did bother me but it was spread out so it wasn't that bad--there was also a no-goodnik that set off m80s at various intervals in the crowd) I was able to sit and do nothing for a few hours (there was like this big flaming ball in the sky!). I ate a giant turkey leg (which tasted funny but was probably the best option for me), drank some lemonade (not overkill in sweetness), drank some water, and ate like a 1/4 of a cup of my sister's dippin dots.

My old childhood anxiety about staring up at fireworks came out but it was less severe--it seemed to be a problem when huge ones went off and expanded at us.

I got home at midnight, drank some cranberry juice, and slept a grand total of 2 hours then got up for a while because I was overheating, slept 3 more hours only to get up at 5 am to eat a yogurt and a spoonful of wheatgrass powder all the while hacking up a lung.

There's my evidence that I can't process things well. I'm going to have to become one of those people who carry around food with them when they travel. I can't be convenient anymore. I probably never could but now it's noticeable and my body prefers to loudly protest. At least being this careful now (sigh) I possibly won't get fat? I need someone else to manage this nonsense for me.

It's probably that way for many people but they don't realize it. We took the metrolink--they had crowd control in place but in order to keep it under control they crammed as many people as they could in the trains and there were twice as many trains running. It was like I was traveling in Japan only from the comfort of my own home. But a of crowd of people just lost their minds in this situation --one minute they were screaming at each other, the next I thought they were doing some sort of cheer both at the top of their lungs. Then there must have been a fight (though I don't see how they got very far) because other people decided to stand up on their chairs to watch. The cops got on at the first stop in East St. Louis and it got quieter after the Washington Park stop. I strangely enough didn't have a problem with this, I wasn't that close to it for the most part and I ended up tuning it out.

Sure it was fun?

Water, water everywhere, not a drop to drink.

July 4, 2014
I need to stop pushing myself. But like I said, work is shaking up (congress did things alright, perhaps bad things, people are going to be losing their jobs in job one), and I am doing a lot better than I have in the past. There is a part of me that thinks my brain will do what it wants when it wants so this era of copacetic brain ability might stop eventually even though I know what causes it and how to stop it. Today is a good day, I got to sleep in and the veins on my arms are not popping out. Maybe it is just work agitating me then I feel I have to make it up and keep pushing so I can go or have an adequate safety net in the form of book if push came to shove. This will do me no good--kind of makes me wonder if I'm cut out for book writing deadlines. I will Anyway, I have one more bit in the last half of the book to put in. I'm mulling over how I can put it in without it being overwrought. I'm trying to do something here that may not be always done in writing. I want the questions in this book, I don't want it to be clear, let it be complicated. I want it to live, I want to break hearts. It has the potential to be easily accusatory, and perhaps that is a fatal flaw. It's just hard because the very nature of the narrative is simplicity in that it only is from one point of view.

Much to ponder then.

June 30, 2014
One way pernicious anemia can develop is by loss of gastric parietal cells, which are responsible, in part, for the secretion of intrinsic factor, a protein essential for subsequent absorption of vitamin B12 in the ileum.

Today after trying to explain it to Bruce (I don't think he has my problem even though we think a like--he can remember things) I finally figured out what the above means. I think it gives new meaning to gut instinct. There is just one section of the small intestines devoted to absorbing B12--that is the Ileum. It also has a pH balance of 7 or 8 which is neutral or alkaline. In a frame of reference--most of our diet is acidic, including my former one full of sugar and chocolate (chocolate is acidic at a pH of 4) so if something specifically has a pH balance then I must have really messed it up. This is bad--signs are pointing to the fact that maybe I lost the gastric parietal cells. I don't know if anyone can fix this, not even a gastroenterologist. I made a doctor appointment with the normal doctor even though I'm wary of going back to her--I'm kind of detoxing of pharmaceuticals right now and I don't want her throwing any more antibiotics at me. I need to prepare in order to not sound like a hypochondriac since she didn't figure this out years ago. I'm not sure if throwing all these wikipedia articles at her and shrieking incoherently is going to cut it.

I really just want them to test stuff, see if I'm right then take a syringe of that pig bladder powder to my intestines area. I don't see how that would not work because apparently my guess is as good as a doctor's guess at this point. But I'm sure anyone I suggest this to, would not go for this.

It's one of those times I wish I had a lot more money to get this done--the writing has the possibility to get the money I need but in order to do this well I need my intestines fixed and so far I've been richer than all three of my boyfriends combined and a few of the guys who just liked me so I don't think I am gold digger material.

I won't leave this bummer on the shoulders of Hanson tonight, listen to this swarthy French pirate, it was one of the songs I found on the Sirius.

C'est stupide! Dites-moi encore pourquoi je ne devrais pas Ítre en colŤre.

June 26, 2014
Tonight!

I am a spaz on a mission.
Erin Condition for June 26, 2014
Still exhibiting signs of agitation--veiny arms, hard time focusing on things particularly things that aren't comprehended or automatically understood, still rather uninterested in a lot of people, loss of interest in reading (that's not good). More interested in action for reasons unknown. Memory is still crap. Craves bread and chocolate. Is weirded out by different future of own making--not sure if that's the right path, intends to do so anyway and fail spectacularly (is good at failing). Having a rough time writing (soooo not good) Doesn't help that environment is acting up again, still (a whole department has been laid off on job 2).

The book: I think I have the last half straightened out and it just might be good (I am second guessing myself, can I complete this and be happy with it long term? I think it's good but I'm easily dazzled). It's about 2,000 words shorter though but it's concise and seems like it flows better but it almost seems like it's missing something (Character ran and jumped, it was scary. The End) even if what I wrote did work. I'll go see about it after this if I'm awake. I ate some ice cream (Hagen Dazs--they claim to not be full of junk, it was on sale) and oddly enough I couldn't sleep last night--so I took a melatonin. That's another thing, I'm having a hard time wanting to sleep even though I am pretty worn out (that can be disastrous). I need to stop this whatever is happening to me before I begin the middle of the book or the normal part, I think I might have a better clue as I will outline here shortly but like many things, it's complicated. The middle part is the normal part, where it slows down and explains things, I think it might be vital that I do this if I would like all my effort to pay off. It has great potential to be a boring dud if I don't do it right and throwing in more explosions just isn't going to cut it. It won't make any sense (but when has that ever stopped me?).

But I'm afraid that I may never be right or balanced (oh but I am right, right as a spaz and if I'm not freaking out about something then I'm just not living). The more I read up on brain matters I realize that it isn't that simple and that whatever bothers it is something new everyday (well, if it were simple and a dunderhead such as myself could figure it out then I guess they wouldn't need millions of dollars in research). And like I said before, it's not always just the brain going off, it's the body triggering it, that I am sure of.

I'm not particularly fond of this new spaz Erin (is this a more organized spaz Erin from years past?). She wants it easy (who doesn't?) and wants things just to happen. I guess this is stemming from all my years of giving it my all and failing spectacularly and now I have a new job of stabilizing myself the hard way so one of the other three jobs (desk jockey, janitor, writer) has to give and it isn't going to be the writer (it does too, shut up!).

But it won't so I guess this a subconscious cue to amp up and conquer then lose interest and deny my feelings of frustration. Good times.

So anyway, something on one of my pill bottles caught my eye recently and I decided to research it. I have also decided to change my answer to a question from the teambuilding survey I made two years ago and filled out here. The question: If you were named based on one of your traits, habits, or likes, what would you be named? My original answer was Sits in Dark Corner, Talks to Self. Because I sat in a dark corner at work and talked to myself because nobody would answer my emails even when it was important. Now I will be known as Takes Many Pills.

The thing was Taurine and that got me thinking about Glutamate. Join me, won't you?

Todayís resources and some text from (other things mentioned in this post are found in these articles as well):
Glutamate
Taurine
Folic Acid

Glutamate is a neurotransmitter important for learning and memory (namely long term memory), itís naturally occurring in your brain but can also be found in outside sources in food like meat, poultry, fish, eggs, dairy and in low levels of wheat. In the brain it exists in the cells and travels to other cells in synopses. However, outside source glutamate can invade your brain, it doesnít easily pass through the blood brain barrier (as in it seeps into your blood via the intestines and hits your brain that way) but since itís not easy that must mean itís still possible but according to the article it gets in the brain via a high-affinity transport system (whatever that is). The excess glutamate can then cause problems most commonly known as excitotoxicity (which I previously understood to maybe be an overreaction to MSGóit didnít make any since because I still had problems and ate no MSG to my knowledge). These problems usually lead to neuronal damage and eventual cell death. Excitotoxicity has also been linked to Autism and Autism like disorders.

I find Autism interesting. I am not autistic but I have displayed a lot of similar symptoms over the years even though I think I have improved, though closer to the Asperger's realm such as:
ē Have a very hard time relating to others. It doesn't mean that they avoid social contact. But they lack instincts and skills to help them express their thoughts and feelings and notice others' feelings.
ē May be bothered by loud noises, lights, or strong tastes or textures.
ē Like fixed routines. Change is hard for them (unless I do it and then I'm fine with it, I know what it is, it's purpose, and I should know what's coming).
ē May not recognize verbal and nonverbal cues or understand social norms. For example, they may stare at others, not make eye contact, or not know what personal space means. (I understand personal space very well though)
ē May have speech that's flat and hard to understand because it lacks tone, pitch, and accent. Or they may have a formal style of speaking that's advanced for their age. (not sure about this one, I've said something simply before and people would laugh at it--I don't get it)
ē May have only one or a few interests, or they may focus intensely on a few things. For example, they may show an unusual interest in snakes or star names or may draw very detailed pictures (ummmm yeah).

Other symptoms more related to Autism: Delays in talking, hard time starting conversations, making friends, relating to most people, digestive and sleep problems.

But the naturally occurring outside source glutamate doesnít really affect the brain. The body metabolizes most of it with intestinal cells.

However, I might have ended up with an invasion because either my intestines werenít ever working quite right (enough to be functional but busted enough to cause problems) and on top of it I took a lot of antibiotics growing up along with the sertraline in the last five years that stopped the serotonin that existed in my intestines and allowed them to be more compromised. And if I was eating processed foods all this time because 90% of the American diet looks processed then I actually was eating an overabundance of MSG which can be found in or labeled under hydrolyzed vegetable protein, autolyzed yeast, hydrolyzed yeast, yeast extract, soy extracts, and protein isolate.

Glutamate is also a GABA precursor for synthesis of inhibitory GABA neuronsóthis happens in the cerebellum and the pancreas.

I want to say maybe a year ago, or before I started to go to the doctor, I read that depression could be caused or connected to a B vitamin deficiency and/or folic acid deficiency (also known as B6). Shortly thereafter, I went to the store and got a B complex (highest dose available), folic acid, and vitamin C that supposedly makes it easier to process in the body. The only result was that the folic acid made me feel weirder than usualólike something was going to kill meóan unsettled feeling that I couldnít shake. The B vitamins did nothing, I felt indifferent ( B vitamin deficiencyhas other symptoms like high blood pressure that I didn't haveó though I did have dermatitis). So when I got the Neurocalm and it had an effect, even one I could doubt (well, itís not like the sertraline which left me pretty much comatose maybe I could fight Neurocalm off like I fought off the sertraline) I found it surprising as most of the ingredients were B vitamins but it had one thing that the normal store supplements didn't have--Taurine.

Taurine is found in seafood and meatómany vegans do not get enough of this. Itís a component in bile and found in the large intestines and synthesized in the pancreas. Itís effective in removing fatty liver deposits, preventing liver disease.

Those three would be some of the places that I have had problems with

Taurine is essential for cardiovascular function, and development and function of skeletal muscle, the retina and the central nervous system

It also lowers blood pressure so it must exist in my body because my blood pressure is ridiculous (Bruce often questions how Iím able to function).

It does cross the blood brain barrier and helps in long term memory in the striatum/hippocampus and protects against glutamate excitotoxicity.

The striatum helps coordinate motivation with body movement. It facilitates and balances motivation with both higher-level and lower-level functions, such as inhibiting one's behavior in a complex social interaction and fine-motor functions of inhibiting small voluntary movement. GABA has a role in there and striatum is associated with bipolar disorder (which I do not have).
The hippocampus is involved with long and short term memory.

Psychologists and neuroscientists generally agree that the hippocampus plays an important role in the formation of new memories about experienced events (episodic or autobiographical memory). Part of this function is hippocampal involvement in the detection of novel events, places and stimuli. Some researchers regard the hippocampus as part of a larger medial temporal lobe memory system responsible for general declarative memory (memories that can be explicitly verbalizedóthese would include, for example, memory for facts in addition to episodic memory).

Due to bilateral symmetry the brain has a hippocampus in each cerebral hemisphere, so every normal brain has two of them. If damage to the hippocampus occurs in only one hemisphere, leaving the structure intact in the other hemisphere, the brain can retain near-normal memory functioning. Severe damage to the hippocampi in both hemispheres results in profound difficulties in forming new memories (anterograde amnesia) and often also affects memories formed before the damage occurred (retrograde amnesia). Although the retrograde effect normally extends many years back before the brain damage, in some cases older memories remain. This retention of older memories leads to the idea that consolidation over time involves the transfer of memories out of the hippocampus to other parts of the brain.

But it doesnít have anything to do with learning new skills.

It is a common known fact that my memory is pretty bad but I deal with it by writing a lot of things down. I would say at least 85% of my past has been voided from my brain. There's a part of me that isn't too bothered by it because I tend to tell myself that it probably wasn't worth remembering. Even though it would be nice to remember something nice about my childhood instead of the few weird times odd or traumatizing stuff happened to me.

The hippocampus is vulnerable to stress (cortisol--released by the adrenal glands--something I was told I burned out) and can atrophy if exposed to stress too long this has a connection to depression among other disorders. Excessive amounts of cortisol in the body causes a whole host of problems including a diminished immune system.

Taurine also acts as an antioxidant and protects against toxicity of various substances (such as lead and cadmium). In cells, taurine keeps potassium and magnesium inside the cell, while keeping excessive sodium out.
Iíve seeped both lead and cadmium through my hair in the hair analysis and Iíve had way low levels of magnesium.

Taurine can decrease blood sugar and weight in diabetic rats. Yet another thing that the pancreas does and my pancreas was on the road to ruin.

Folic Acid:
Could possibly cause permanent brain damage (good) and mask pernicious anemia. Regular anemia is a word that floats around in the family but when I tried to correct it with a vitamin supplement with iron, all I would get were minor problems that you probably don't want to hear about.

One way pernicious anemia can develop is by loss of gastric parietal cells, which are responsible, in part, for the secretion of intrinsic factor, a protein essential for subsequent absorption of vitamin B12 in the ileum. Gastric usually refers to the intestines.

In addition, each of the preceding studies further emphasizes that elevated consumption of beer and other ethanol-based drinks results in a net deficit of those B vitamins and the health risks associated with such deficiencies (just a heads up).

Pernicious anemia either is or caused by a b12 deficiency and includes the following which I have and still do experience: fatigue, depression, dyspepsia which is indigestion, jaundice (Iíve noted a slight yellow color around my mouth), cracked and pale lips and dark circles around the eyes (look of exhaustion), memory changes, mild cognitive impairment (including difficulty concentrating and sluggish responses, colloquially referred to as brain fog), muscle weakness, low blood pressure, sometimes shortness of breath, Cytopenia which can mean low red blood cells/anemia, and it may be present with thyroid disorders (which also run in the family).

Conclusion: I may not be absorbing Taurine or vitamin b12 very well or doing it so sporadically that that I am functional to a point that nobody notices anything wrong. This in turn has screwed with my GABA transmitters allowing everyday glutamate to somehow get into my brain throwing me for a long depressive fit and making me Aspergerís like. I could have further complicated matters by depending on sugar and caffeine growing up to keep up and function which I believe releases dopamine. Iím not really sure what came first, it seems to chase itself between the release of the cortisol and the effects on my brain.

I would also like to point out this comment from an article on cracked (5 things I learned about addiction after five years sober): Solid piece of work. Since finishing grad school and writing a few papers on addiction, I really see the science behind a lot of what you say. You hit on two really important aspects of addition. 1.) People addicted to drugs can and will get addicted to other things. It's predominately due to dysregulation of neuronal activity in the prefrontal cortex (a pathway known to modulate activity in the nucleus accumbens, which is largely responsible for reinforced behavior). Your brain essentially releases excess glutamate in the presence of addictive stimuli (this is why they tell you to stay out of the bar at AA) into the nucleus accumbens. This leads to the second important point 2.) Your hippocampus (re: memory) and prefrontal cortex are responsible for the insidious aspect of addiction (i.e., relapse). Your brain will start releasing dopamine and glutamate before you ever take that hit/drink/what-have-you, simply by being exposed to external stimuli associated with your addiction (Mr. Cheese mentioned his friends talking about going out and getting drunk). Being high on your own brain juices impairs your judgment leading to relapse. It's a tough damn road and I'm glad I haven't had to deal with it. We're working on pharmaceuticals now to treat addiction, but that usually involves producing a generalized anhedonia, since all addictions utilize the same neural pathways. This means drugs aren't as fun, but nothing else is either (i.e, sex, video games, etc...)
tl:dr Science has a deeper understanding of addiction and the reward pathways in the brain, but we're not really any closer to a "cure" or treatment aid.

So if weíre adding glutamate to things and the addictís brain is releasing glutamate because it wants its viceóthen addicts unknowingly have a hidden barrier in their way to recovery which may explain why relapses happen so often (because food companies are too busy inducing mental illness in order to make a profit than to care about the functionality of a society). In short, if addicts want to stay sober then they very well might have to give up processed foods and eating out as well.

In fact, that is going to be my next experiment. I am going to attempt to get rid of all things supposedly MSG, though it might be hard to give up food from restaurants (as in I donít know what they use to make their dishes). What really needs to happen is a major overhaul of my intestines, Iím not sure if thatís possible but it is crystalline now that it is the major source of my problems.

Itís also very clear that all this is a contributing factor in the degeneration of the next generation as this generation is all about convenience particularly with food and Iím afraid the boys will be taking the brunt of it and dishing it back out in the forms of attacks because usually boys are brought up to not deal with their emotions. If you recall, usually these killers are dead eyed, obsessive, have a hard time relating to those around them but are rarely classified as autistic. But I'm sure everyone will be blaming everything else under the sun before they come to the conclusion that what we feed ourselves has to potential to do more harm than good.

I donít know what I can do about it. I guess I will just watch it burn but then again, I'm made of kindling so that will do me no good. I have plans that might make it better but all my ideas need a lot of money and a cast of millions. That only comes with Oprah like power because I would possibly have to fight Monsanto.

I wish I could end this on a better note. Perhaps next time? Goodnight.

June 23, 2014
Some light reading for you. Short summary: it's about a first time sci-fi novelist from Shrewsbury. Interesting quote: Usually a first novel sells about 1,000 copies, then your publisher cancels you. Feeling: Like other people are living my dreams even if there is no basis to this. I will attempt not to think about it. I'm bordering on a fine line of emotions in a section of rewrite. I'm attempting to write a reasonable reaction to it and hoping that this all isn't ending up as a soliloquy on my life thus far (maybe I don't want to be seen in the novel, maybe I want it to live on its own--I'm not sure if I can accomplish this). I'm feeling rather agitated as well--which makes it hard to write a reaction. A guy who used to work in my office just killed himself--he was having problems and I believed him to be a manic depressive while he was working there--naturally, I tried to help him. I kept him in the loop once they were beginning to fire him for it and told him what he needed to do to get his job back but he acted like everything was fine and because he was a different depressive than me, I thought I had gotten through to him and convinced him to do what was needed but I was wrong (he had this back up plan to become a massage therapist, that's a reasonable and easily reachable goal and not delusional, but that never happened). I guess I'm a strange depressive--I have never felt the need or the desire to kill myself, I just think everything sucks. Even back in high school, I researched relentlessly on my mental condition and how to make it better without the meds. Most of my past reactions were laying dormant and on the rare occasion fighting back in the metaphorical sense usually with words (Like now I'm rather combative, it does seem like the world in it's chemical negligence is trying to kill me so I don't want to help them and since they wasted so much of my time while I was reeling in my reactions I'm not too happy about it either. I'm also mad that I have to sit here and be so careful with myself just to exist and it's hard to do). I guess he got too lost, had nothing to live for, and his brain convinced him there were no other ways out. Here's to you, Nick, even though I'm still kind of mad at you. There's no quitting at life.

June 17, 2014
The brain is back! Doctor was attempting to get me off of the holistic happy pills and I did run out of NeuroCalm--so maybe that was part of the problem too. I'm sorry, I get lost in my own head and think that what I'm going through is normal (although, I have considered that maybe those around me are not facing the truth of situations and are actually in denial while I get to experience the full bluntness of it all but I guess that can be a downer or something). Luckily, Bruce had some after he tried to take them then quit (we think similarly, even if I hate to admit it because I shouldn't talk about him much out here--but because of this he can be good to have around). I guess I can come to the conclusion, despite my initial misgivings that yes, these pills do work at least for me, or then again I could just have had a placebo effect. Whatever, I'm back on the road until the next storm brews and you know it's coming regardless. Good. Next time, I think we will go over an ingredient in these little capsules--taurine. It was just one more thing that made me wonder what exactly happened to me.

Sleep! RAAAAAAAWR!

June 14, 2014
Dr. Russell Blaylock on nutrition, please hold your judgment on his theories on the Illuminati--the stuff on the brain that he talks about in the beginning is very interesting. For the most part, at this time, I believe what we are doing to ourselves is just plain negligence and ignorance (unless it's deliberate ignorance?). I do not see the end game of keeping people dumb, confused, or controlled--I see no point. It's not like they have some paradise somewhere else they can go to (OR DO THEY?). It would be detrimental to those rich/powerful people--because they depend on the mass dunderheads to take care of them--as in doctors. And most doctors are not immune to the new normal diet, as they are human and behave like everyone else. It also appears that the powerful elite have not aged very well overall and tend to not live into the hundreds.

Sugar is not my pal, sugar is not my friend.

June 13, 2014
Silent Thunderstorms

I need to remember the early signs. I've been through this too many times before I guess I just figure that I'm working another angle that does go somewhere that I should be free from my depression. That it shouldn't happen much anymore or maybe the brainshift I was feeling was how normal (there's that word again) people felt. Look at me, I'm treating it like other people treat it (you're just over reacting, it's not a big deal, etc, etc, etc). I can't even be sympathetic to myself

1) Music was starting to sound monotonous--even the stuff I like on the ipood (this is actually new)--the radio had a tendency to be just too jarring.
2) I didn't and still don't have much of an appetite--I still eat I just do it because it's the time to eat (also new).
3) I didn't feel very creative at all, in fact, most of this last absence was because I didn't feel like I had anything to say. Then I started to question whether or not I was actually a creative type--that all this time I was only a spaz who brain farted out random sensory distortions while hopped up on sugar and caffeine that reacted badly with the chaos preexisting.
4)Most of the time I felt voided of emotion and when I managed to feel something it was just rawness.
5)Apathy. I didn't feel like doing anything (also kind of new), it all seemed pointless because it was too much of an effort for it was worth particularly when the end result is failure.
6) I was feeling a great distance between myself and the people around me. It's like I can't comprehend that they have any depth or multi-dimensions to their lives or that their interests in things have any validity. As in people can say things all they like but it doesn't mean they actually mean it. And if they do mean it then they may not know what they're talking about.

But then I spent some time outside for an afternoon, ate crackers, and actually felt that things weren't remotely fun anymore or I couldn't even muster any enjoyment in what I do (I at least had that with the writing). I often find myself at odds with this notion--It sounds nice, sure, but I view it as half-wit philosophy people tell graduates who end up blindly following it into worthless degrees. I can be neutral about my job because it doesn't define me and isn't my life. Job one has always been this limbo where I can never fully complete anything or get it done in the time frame of my choosing, so why get upset or angry about it. It's a great practice in zen philosophy--or like I said before--it's a practice of a modern day mandala. It's been that way before I got here and it will keep on being this way if and when I leave it (we've been extended!). It was better to be in limbo than to do the job and not know what I'm doing--ultimately messing it all up. It occurred to me that I had to now apply the same indifference or detachment (so what is the difference? one has serenity?) to the changes of job 2. I'm a janitor, it shouldn't matter where I do it, so I should stop caring because nobody likes it when I care about stuff. What was I going to do about it anyway? Nothing. Any means of getting my old floor back (just to clarify, they screwed with everyone and rearranged the whole crew) involved some sort of selfish power play--that I wasn't willing to do aside from the fact that I'm a janitor and I shouldn't have to think about power plays (seriously just asking for it back like a sane person wouldn't result in anything and they've been known to use stuff against people).

It hit me after I had an extreme craving for more crackers (something that is terrible for me and I shouldn't be eating). Job 2 oddly gave me a purpose and it took away the few things that made it bearable to work there. I knew what I was doing in that job and it was always consistent. It had the support I needed, the answers I looked for, and the place I could be myself and do what I wanted when I wanted to, even though it took a lot of time. The curmudgeons told me that they missed me and I believed them (curmudgeons they say what they feel and don't mince words) and even missed them too (clarification: job 1 people aren't bad either, it's just that they're more busy and most of them aren't curmudgeons so I don't relate very often). I didn't want to feel it because when I do get attached, I always get hurt some way (people move, let me down, or I get flack for hanging out with whomever and even if I don't care it does get to me after a while). On top of this I was now doing one thing and barely moving for hours on end. Movement is actually pretty important to my sanity, I think it helps with the blood flow to my brain, as I have low blood pressure (110/73) and I'm a slow blood oxidizer. It made me feel like I wasn't needed anymore and if I wasn't needed then I needed to go focus on other things in my life, it's also hard not to think of all the other times where I had to keep moving against what I wanted to do.

So in the bid for sanity or to keep them from affecting me for the umpteenth time I silenced the thunder of depression until the storm was upon me. At this point, I do find it's just not worth, the effort or energy to be upset with this place but I guess I can't help myself.

Other than that, I was dragging along my story and feeling all the more frustrated with it. I'm a bit stuck, I got her stuck in a place I can't get her out of without a lot of people noticing (in the first draft, I remembered there were people around her but only in the places she was not getting out of or they just didn't notice her). Yay irony (I'm stuck, she's stuck, get it???)! Hopefully, I can get around my brain and actually find a place to be that gives me purpose without a complex where I think I have to suffer because I always do (But isn't the saying: different venue, same crap? That's not good.).

At any rate, it's time for a brain reset until the next storm (sleep helps but then again, sleep may delay the inevitable).

Sometimes I find it hard to explain my love of Hanson. I just like them and I like to share with YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU. I like for their music to speak for itself. So, today I will plug their new beer:

There are so many relationships in this life that only one or two will last. That's why you need a beer that understands this then helps you forget the rest of them because beers are now sentient beings. From the cold peaks of the Oklahoma Rockies comes Mmmhops. The beer that says Mmmmm... hops. Quick! Marketing Buzzwords: Brand, niche, passion, streamline, synergize, bingo! I win the internet! Now go listen to this (I was probably there).

Good night.

May 29, 2014
Sigh. My rules, protocol, technology and oddly enough, logic (NO! Other writers don't use it, why should I?) are getting in the way of advancing my plot. So I need to visit with you until my brain decides to cooperate. I'm fine on plotlines in the other books, I just have to get there. Besides, I've got something on my mind.

With the increase of mass attacks on the public, I find myself getting concerned. As a weird, quiet, sometimes depressive/anxious, weird thinker, white person loner who finds herself at odds sometimes with the people around me and who writes in general as well as on the internet, I'm starting to think that I might be profiled soon. The saving graces here are that I'm not a guy and I'm not in my 20s as well as I'm sure that most people around me don't see the complete picture of myself no matter how honest I get and half the time they're only seeing what they want to see. (Humanoid truth: It can be surprising as to how little people actually care about each other until something slaps them upside the head. But I know, it's impossible to care about every human that ever lived).

But I find it intriguing I guess (weird thought warning: look out. You do realize I have to do this to write in more than one dimension, right?) that now these killers have enough esteem (? I'm not sure that's the right word here) to kill others/punish them versus before Columbine (which happened my Freshman year of High School) where kids would just take it out on themselves, or if they were like me, just take it (and if you can't take it anymore, then you keep taking it!) or throw themselves into art and end up with a tortured art career of some sort where people call them deep for having bizarre fantasies that would otherwise in this day and age cause alarm. The best revenge is becoming successful, you know.

I read the recent one's manifesto, mostly for curiosity's sake. The Daily Mail had it and I can't find it anymore, if you're curious. It was well written and pretty coherent except for the last few months of his life where it's "no one likes me, pretty girls shun me, no girl would like to have sex with me," over and over and over again in various ways of phrasing it. It was surprising at just how much he could remember of his life, particularly his early years before the age of 5. The way he described himself though, it's very apparent that this is biological--that he was this way from the get go, being an extraordinarily fussy kid. It's this push and pull between him and his environment--it's kind of hard to pinpoint where it all went wrong to tell you the truth. He pretty much was trapped in his own brain and overwrought emotions that he barely expressed. Not many people can tell this from the outside or understand it so they react accordingly, usually negatively because he's giving them negativity which for the most part he was completely unaware of. It was almost like he was OCD only with the idea of sex. He was often scared of it, repulsed by it, yet he needed it (and I'm sure if someone were to actually do it with him the experience would have most likely make him hate it and the girl who let him do it).

As someone who does work with my own brain to get around it's malfunctions, I tend to think that I'm the only one who can truly save myself and I think that's true for most sufferers. It took me a long time to really realize this even though when you're in the throes of a mental fit you just wish that there would be one person who would care who was strong enough to help support the weight of your mind for awhile. Most people are ill equip to handle this--even if it doesn't seem like it, they have their own problems and you're just one sliver in their lives (now the big problem I know I had is that many people would tell me I'm wrong but then offer no real suggestions on how to remedy this). But I'm not sure if anyone could have saved him--himself included. He couldn't come up with any good solutions to fix his problems like craigslist or even dating websites (even though those can turn down people). He didn't seem to be able to perceive the future or anything else he wanted to do aside from sex. People would introduce him to things like tv shows but he never ventured beyond that. He gave no foresight into what he wanted to do with a career beyond high school--all he could think of was get quick rich schemes like playing the lotto (well, he was right: if you're difficult to deal with, money, and even notoriety can make people want to put up with you).

It's unfortunate aside from the loss of life, that guys like this always shoot themselves in the head. One of the ways we could learn to stop this would be to study their brains. But then again, I suppose that would only go so far because it's without circumstance. Even if they did find a common denominator, it would be decades before anyone could find a cure that can work with the malleable nature of the brain--they're complicated that way. And like I've said before, it may not entirely be the brain--as I figured out that the brain is affected by what's going on in the rest of the body.

I just hope I don't have to deal with the fears of other people about what they imagine I'm capable of in the near future. It's hard to convince them otherwise (particularly when I'm not a published writer). Don't fear those who know they're crazy--fear the ones who don't think that they are (which if you get down to it can be anyone and everyone).

5/31/14 Edit: Thanks Slate For these Two articles

Keep on keepin on if you find this all too depressing. As of today this song is free on amazon

May 23, 2014
Okay, let's walk through it. I've had the opportunity to fix many things in the book I ended up reading it aloud to myself--I'm tripping over my own thoughts in my head now (or my focus isn't quite what it used to be and my visualization prowess is ebbing and flowing). That's great. The big problem is that I'm kind of stuck on the back half still. I've realized the flaw here. Again, while on the happy pill, I didn't realize the depth of this situation that I put my character in (And she was all like 'Hey guys, can I go into that place right there?' And they were all like 'sure no problem' THE END! I am so awesome at this!). I don't believe (90% sure) that I am just being overly moody right now, seriously for what I want to happen to my character, it is severely lacking in security and even protocol (there must be rules here, for the rules are meant to be broken). Unfortunately, this changes circumstances drastically so like I said before this is almost a gritty reboot without being one. I don't think it is one because it's like a gritty reboot has time to think about how gritty it is, this situation does not give the time to think about much of anything at least not in my character's case.

It's just that I actually saw some pretty awesome visions concerning this when my brain farted that part out. And it's hard to make it plausible in this sequence of events or find ways to keep it in the book. I have to make it real otherwise we're just living through the same flashing lights and explosions that mean nothing.

It would also help if I wasn't so tired. Meh.
So get up and go

May 19, 2014
Gritty Reboot

The more I actually look into adrenal fatigue--the more I seem to make sense
Today's sources:

http://www.adrenalfatigue.org/take-the-adrenal-fatigue-quiz
http://articles.mercola.com/sites/articles/archive/2009/09/05/most-common-cause-of-fatigue-that-is-missed-or-misdiagnosed-by-doctors.aspx
http://thyroid.about.com/cs/endocrinology/a/adrenalfatigue.htm

The allergies, the recurrent infections, the muscle weakness I used to have, the sleep disturbances, the odd dizzy spells I used to get when I was younger, my constant need of sugar and "chocolate" (if what we call chocolate actually is chocolate), the fact that I can barely remember stuff and my fun ability to spaz out about stuff/not hand stress at all, my recent constant thirst, the fact that I seem less puffy in the face now, the time it looked like I was getting varicose veins, my indigestion, my ridiculously low blood pressure (no, I don't remember, I'll have to do it again), the intolerance to cold, the depression, the skin problems, the problems I have waking up and getting moving in the morning and not being coherent until 10 AM and then getting sleepy in the afternoon, the times I wake up tired.

This:
Additionally, people with adrenal fatigue often get a burst of energy around 6 p.m., followed by sleepiness at 9 p.m. or 10 p.m., which is often resisted. A "second wind" at 11 p.m. is then common, which often may keep you from falling asleep until 1 a.m.

Further, those with adrenal fatigue often also have abnormal blood sugar levels and mental disturbances, such as increased fears and anxiety, and rely on coffee, soda and other forms of caffeine to keep them going.

But also according to the internet adrenal fatigue might be a catchall and technically might not exist (sure seems real to me) but then again other people in my family have proven glandular problems (Thyroids malfunction, why can't the adrenal gland?) so it doesn't seem that improbable to me.

So I guess it wasn't really my liver after all or maybe it was because the adrenals were messing with it or maybe my body just hates me and there are no vikings/other various shades of berserkers that I have to battle and be killed by the age of 30.

It just makes me wonder, if this is the actual root of my anxiety and my depression and not just my brain chemistry misfiring by itself, then is it really depression? I'm pretty much back to being my old self but probably more paranoid with good reason--so essentially the happy pills didn't change anything. I'm not sure what caused this recent brain shift, it's been a good seven months since I've been on happy pill and I'm not as stressed out as I could be at work (I've had worse). I don't think it coincided with the loss of my floor--it was well after that, I think. Job one is okay, there is a change afoot but job one contract bosses are doing it sanely. I was good on the book too. Perhaps this is just five years worth of spazzing out coming out all at once because it wanted to catch up (got bored, something).

Right now I've been feeling like I'm not in writing or anything else for that matter anymore (well job one is starting to concern me with other changes they want to implement, it seems overzealous like we're all marching toward a future where we're all like over regulated robots who still can't do anything right). I do stuff anyway but I often can't come to conclusions and I feel like I've been voided in the creative field. In fact, it was hard to even form this entry in my mind, I'm back to writing brief outlines instead of complete thoughts. I've been getting headaches and my sinuses are acting up like an infection is forming (I feel it over my left eye, right at the corner where the nose meets the eye). I want to sleep and do nothing the rest of the time. I also want to eat a lot of bread and sugar--all this salad eating is getting on my nerves. In fact, I feel overwhelmed at the prospect of properly taking care of myself, since it's so difficult to find anything that doesn't have hidden chemicals and weird junk that will send me over the edge, never mind the prices I have to pay not to get it. Super Fun info on how decaf is made: it's totally safe the FDA said so never mind that I just realized that most tea is actually grown in China (it's rarely marked, it usually says it's distributed by some company) and that isn't good because China is a polluted wasteland (It's a common known fact that you never buy Chinese made dog treats--they have killed dogs. So if that's the case, then why do I want to eat anything that comes out of China?)

Anyway, the book. I'm on the back half of it, as evident I'm kind of having trouble with it. My opening scene was all wrong--like I said before it was like I took all the drama out of it even though this half was less messed up. It's hard to juggle who knows what and what they need to know and when and how they feel about it (simple). I'm also trapped on a space station.

But I've got a new smattering of pills as I just went to the doctor today--so we'll see if this works. My hair analysis did indicate that I do have some sort of endocrine/adrenal problem. Perhaps I just didn't understand it last time (that's the other thing too--I'm having such a hard time understanding things and having the ability to pick out what's relevant to me). I'm still seeping aluminum and this time I'm also seeping mercury.

Well, I need to go practice my new hobby--sleeping. Come on, brain, get it together. Good night.

May 10, 2014
Erin Remembers:

I think I liked the idea of being an actor in my younger years. I'm not sure why. Someone told me it could be a good idea? I was told I could do anything I put my mind to, including jump out of a window and fly? I'm just trying to remember why it never came to anything. I did try out for plays my Freshman year and bombed (on top of that was the fact that you had to be the chosen one of the teacher). Freshman year of high school was the year I tried to get a life despite being a shy mute. I know the Muny has/had a kids program but that never appealed to me (I wasn't that peppy and I can't sing). Most of my early work was scripts and for some reason it was a given that me and my friends would act in it once I finished it (they never took it that seriously though). It seemed like a good idea at the time?

But now I'm not so sure. I was watching the people making the local movie and I realized that it takes an exorbitant amount of schmoozing and I am no schmoozer. Usually when I do try, I end up annoying people (I seriously don't know why, I am aware of what I am doing and I am simply talking and not being over enthusiastic or bizarre--no weireder than usual). It's still fun when I can get it. Even better when I get paid. These are such times:

The first movie I remember being filmed here was called The Big Brass Ring (1999). It was actually shot in Alton and I think it was a closed set but we decided to go up there and try to find it--which we failed to do.

The next big film shot here was The Game of their Lives (2005)--starring popular actor Zachery Ty Bryan. I think I tried to get an extra role but I think they needed more guys who knew how to play soccer and a few women. It was also the middle of the summer and everyone was running around in heavy 1940s clothes on top of it so I wasn't terribly upset that I missed out on that one.

Then it was Meet Bill. I got for one reason and one reason only: I took my mom with me as 22 year old white girls are a dime a dozen. Even though I could have done more as a high school student, I was picked to be fan girl of local reporter portrayed by popular actor Timothy Olyphant.

From the original August 2006 entry on this site:
....And the rest of goes on to give the directions and other things that I decided not to include. Anyway, so being that my sickness decided to conflict with my schedule, there was only one thing left to do...get rid of the sore throat as quickly as possible. There was no way I was going to pass up a perfectly good opportunity to scream incoherently at someone.

So I launched into an all out attack on this thing. It was a simple sore throat, perhaps even a sinus draining of sort so I went into the cough drop/salt water gargling/ib proffin taking neck lymph node rubbing/green tea drinking/retching attack first. But it didn't go away, in fact it got worse, so much to the point that one of the days before filming I had to resort to playing charades at work (of course if I remember right that could have been because I ran out of cough drops because I had a sinus draining fit at work once because its so dry there. So I was a week early for July 10th also known as ďSilence DayĒ to Meher Baba followers, I find this funny because I'm almost certain within the first 18 years of my life I had months possibly at least a year of silence). But while looking through a one of my files here I remember all my old-wives cures I collected over the years and decided that this would be a good time to try it out.

Sore throat cure: Ginger root (Size of your pinkie) in 4-8 cups boiling water, add 3 cinnamon sticks (20 minutes to soak), remove the cinnamon, remove the ginger, add honey, sip slow.

Alas I didn't have the ginger root and I didn't want to make 4-8 cups so I ended up boiling ginger powder (yes the honey helped loads). I drank 4 cups of this over 2 days, not sure if it helped but my combined efforts helped drive out what did look like an infection. But then it revealed it's true intentions and moved up into my nose. Once it did that I finally went ahead with the nyquil/ dayquil attack. This is the point where things really get fuzzy.

Day and Night started to blur together. I started having really odd dreams that seemed exceptionally real (one was about me forgetting an ice-cream cake I was supposed pick up for a co-worker's birthday the next day because I was determined not to forget in my drugged out state. But the thing was in the dream I was riding a bike with another cake on my lap while wearing a particularly long skirt and I was in the west end of Belleville which is nowhere near where I got the cake or my current place of employment. In the dream I remembered I forgot the cake, got frustrated, and got off my bike to call my parents from a pay-phone to come pick me up.). I worry about myself now, because I seemed to have a particularly strong reaction to day/nyquil that I'm sure I used to not have. But I had things to do, I had no time to pass out and have weird dreams whenever I felt like it. I had to go rummage through my wardrobe to pick out preppy/office-chic which I was almost certain I had due to my work in retail.

Now here's the thing about my wardrobe: It's pretty big. In the beginning it was a mish-mash of hand-me-downs from the late 80s/early 90s as well as my own style which strongly reflected the time of tye-dye shirts and day glow, turtlenecks, boring sweaters and sweatpants in the winter, large baggy outfits. As time progressed it started to mutate, with the advancements in technology my clothes advanced to wearing purple denim shorts and black stretch pants (lots of shorts and stretch pants--never could wear them alone my butt has always been too big for that kind of grotesque display. I still have them, they still fit me and now I'm back in style again). And these fun multi-patterned spandex shirts that made me feel a bit uncomfortable in because they were hard to keep a consistent body temperature in. Loud colors, an Ecuadorian poncho, hats--lots of hats, colored lensed sunglasses (which I still have but cannot wear because I have bad eyesight), large and long accessories, paisley, more tye-dye. I recently got into wearing long baggy skirts in the summer because I find it more cooling. Eventually some of those clothes became more form fitting because either I got bigger and it fit me more snugly (I have a tye-dyed shirt that I used to wear in the second grade, it used to be a baggy shirt, now it's a baby T) and I got to the age where I was shopping in the Juniors section. But I still didn't buy any jeans because they didn't make pants for stumpy freaks like myself and the misses section where I could buy pants had pants that featured pleats in the front that I didn't need and the legs were still too tight for my overly muscular legs (I had yet to discover the one pant that fits me like I always wanted--the husky boy pant. I did want to have pants with pockets but obviously pants with elastic bands don't come with pockets and so I hated jeans for existing). The emergence of yoga in the Midwest also gave me new and exciting pant options of yoga pants that is also formfitting and loose with a draw string waist.

After I graduated I discovered I didn't need to wear that much when writing so aside from my outing clothes, I developed another wardrobe for writing. Writer wear: your basic tank top, blanket/wrap, and any kind of yoga pant/plaid pant. And yet a third wardrobe developed once I started at Kmart, discovering that they had a uniform of sorts involving mainly polos in black, red, and white. I also figured out that even if I could have worn what I wore in high school to work I really wouldn't have wanted to. This new wardrobe was designed to get chewed up and beat up often. From this stemmed buying multiple variants of white button-down shirts and buying more skinny ties at thrift stores to add to my collection of 1 (they don't make ties for short stumpy freaks like me)... I tried to keep it at the Kmart within the confines of black, red, and white because I felt like it (I could wear a lovely shade of medium blue as well) but I also had fun with patterns. Tchotchke Barn is no different only I get to wear more colors and heavier clothes because we have a working air conditioning. I also needed more pants with pockets, I didn't have a fun red vest to pile all my stuff into and wearing 2 pairs of black corduroys wasn't going to cut it.

So out of this cacophony of fashion I had the task of now finding preppy/office chic.

I was sure that I had something because I had let my wardrobe grow a bit larger than what I have room for solely for the purpose of having clothes for occasions where I had to blend in (as in stuff I wouldn't normally wear). Unfortunately anything that resembled office chic was my work clothes and those are all beat up. Anything else was considered winter clothes. I have a couple of suit jackets but we figured they were way too fancy (and one had this floral pattern across it).

What I ended up taking was a pair of khakis, my black gauchos, a short black skirt, and a pair of fancy black spandex based office pants, a plum colored tank top, a dark teal spandex shirt, a baggy blue polo, a gray button up sweater of my sisters (that didn't look right on me), a gray tank top, and I think a white button down shirt. And after all that I went into a nyquil induced dream.

And what seemed like five minutes later, I woke up at 5 something and put on the skirt, the teal shirt, and some clunky black heels even though I really didn't want to wear the skirt. I slathered on some of that new ever-lasting foundation and did my hair, loaded the clothes into a duffel bag, and got some reading material and a box of Kleenex in another bag and before you knew it we were off.

Being that it was 6 am, I was mostly freezing on the car ride over, but I was ready I was as alert as I could possibly be, I was focused. I saw a sunrise for the first time in 9 years. We drove past the city, and through a bunch of cities I don't remember and I think we ended up in Ladue (it was Ladue) or Creve Coeur. Oh it was one of those Missouri rich towns somewhere near the boonies and we pulled up in this large school that was on top of a hill. There we got out and joined the roughly other 30+ extras at two long tables outside a grouping of trailers to fill out lovely paperwork (woo ready for action!)--tax forms. After that wardrobe came out and started to look us over: first the school kids, then the parents/mentors, and finally the fans. But it wasn't as simple as that. Everyone had been approved to go up to the set except for me, my mom, and this other girl who was supposed to be a fan. The clothes we brought were unacceptable, and by what I saw when they brought out some wardrobe it was a bit more than just office clothes. It was really fancy, like professional stuff (mainly stuff you get at Target around here). Beige. Pants that fasten on the inside. Camisoles. Those suit jackets without the floral print. Stuff I hate to wear because they don't make it in short and stumpy, it's all for overly twiggy girls. Wardrobe didn't like my shirt--too flashy. So they put me in the gray tank top and the gray sweater. But that wasn't right. They then took me out of that and put me in an all black wrap dress. It still wasn't right so they left us there to sit on the parking lot to do other stuff they weren't going to tell us about. The head wardrobe lady went on busily running clothes to the set (I believe the actor who played the principal showed up so he was a bigger priority than we were), the assistant we were stuck with drifted in her own atmosphere with her hat over her eyes around the wardrobe trailer talking to random people--I figured the wardrobe muses had left her, possibly forever and that's why she couldn't dress us for a good couple hours.

It was an unseasonably mild July day and since it was 9 am and still cold I decided to put on my comfortable pair of shoes and a pair of pants. At one point they brought us chairs and water after they put away the table. All that morning I blew my nose a lot, ate a mini box of dry mini-wheat, managed to focus long enough to read the paper, then I finally went back to my car and took a nap. A half hour later my ma woke me up to tell me that they could finally dress us. They pulled me out of the dress and put me back in my gray tank top, a longer black skirt, and a wool suit coat. And they figured out how to dress my mom (she just wasn't dressy enough) and the other girl. And they hauled us up the long staircase into the school, up three flights of steps into the extra holding room otherwise known as the alumni room.

I was astounded at this room, it was just a large room with about 4 big windows with garish pink floral curtains, a grand piano, a lot of chairs, bookcases along the back wall, a large pink/white oriental rug covered the floor, and in one corner was a couch and 2 chairs that had been re-upholstered poorly in matching garish pink floral fabric. I leapt into action quickly eating 2 donuts and some cheesy poofs that they set on a table. They lectured us about something, and took everyone out to film except for the fans. I found my way to the upholstered chairs and tried to read but because I took another shot of dayquil I was getting sleepy. I stared at the portrait of the stuffy old woman who decorated the room and pretty much slept listening to the small talk going on.

And then it was lunchtime. Ma woke me up and all of us extras filed back down three floors to the courtyard where we lunched on a lovely assortment fish/chicken sticks (I couldn't tell), tater tots, and steamed assorted vegetables. It was really good but after a good half-hour lunch was over and they shuffled us back up to the alumni room where I again stared at the picture of the stuffy old woman and fell asleep.

At one point I wandered the floor I was on and looked at some of the classrooms. This school was the home of the rabid Pegasus and had been open since 1876, they had this huge statue of someone who contributed a bunch of money or something in the hall and all the classrooms were tiny, it was so fancy, up to date, and so clean for a school. I was in and out of consciousness as the extras were shuffled in and out as the day wore on. I began to notice that no matter how many times I blew my nose and slept on my arm, my make-up didn't smear or get rubbed off at all. Finally around 4 pm they called the fan extras out to film with everyone else. I was awake again but not really coherent enough to engage in small talk. They took us outside and sat us on the lawn, I was almost certain my cold had cleared up (or at least most of it was now up in my ears) and I was just about out them so I left my Kleenex inside. That was a mistake because I had to sit there doing nothing for at least 2 more hours. It would have been more fun watching them do the movie if I was constantly adjusting my nose so it wouldn't run. One of the producers gave me a look, I probably looked like I was on drugs (I'm sure my mom made some other extras think I was on drugs by saying I was so out of it because of the drugs referring to the nyquil). I ended up having to spit in one patch of grass (that I covered up with grass and leaves). I was hoping to avoid that. After shooting the opening scene a couple times (because they only had 1 standard grade camera) my ma got me a roll of paper towels.

And 45 minutes before the end of the shooting day, the fans were called up to shoot their scene (so this was 6:45 pm). I straightened myself out yet again and prepared myself to scream. This was not the case, I was instructed to fawn, mouth words, laugh and look happy. The other girls were just about as loopy as I was by the time we got to film so we were all kind of goofy. One of the girls thought we should imagine Timothy Olyphant (the guy who played Chip, we also saw Aaron Eckhart. Jessica Alba was not there, she had finished 2 weeks prior) as a turkey sandwich (we were pretty much on the brink of being hungry again). I just thought of my boyfriend walking around Sears like an orangutan. After about 3 takes my face hurt and then we were done for the day. Now it wasn't over-blazingly hot but because I was wearing a wool coat, hungry, and on dayquil I was slowly losing coherency. All I wanted was some chicken soup, so we wrapped, turned in the loaned clothes and got into our own and on the way home we went to a steak and shake and I got some beef and vegetable soup and some fries. At the end of the month I got my paycheck for about $98 dollars. This was the best Hollywood movie adventure ever.

Wow, look at how spunky I was and I had the ability to have weird dreams on top of it. What happened? Just so you know Tchotchke Barn is actually Old Time Pottery. The other workers and I decided to give it a better name to reflect what it actually sold since most people kept calling it Pottery Barn or Olde Tyme Pottery Barn. I also distinctly remember seeing popular actress Elizabeth Banks too but that was before she was popular actress. My part was completely cut from the movie (I wish I could have seen just how bad it was, it wasn't included on the DVD which we do own) and my mom's back side is seen in the opening scene walking from a distance.

After that was Up In the Air starring swarthy male actor George Clooney. I wasn't apart of it, I think it was mostly closed and didn't need a whole lot of extras either.

The last huge movie here (actually in Ste. Genevieve) that wrapped I think last year was the very large production of Gone Girl They kept it really quiet, kept the extra casting local. Not to mention that Star Wars casting that went on.

Two other projects are now filming as of now: Marshall the Miracle Dog--that was publicized and got a lot of response but I was busy to go try and get an extra part (might be easier now that I'm ooooooold). And the Men of Granite or the Boys of Lincoln Place. I don't know what they're doing exactly, where they're at in the filming process but if I get into it, it would be another paying extra role. I'd take off work for this

So we do decent. There's also local commercials and I've heard of local actors here making a living here and not just in stuff they write themselves.

Anyway, I need some sleep. I have the usual normal activities tomorrow that I don't want to spend too much time on. I went to the herb shop for more powdered wheatgrass and the lady said my adrenal system was out of whack (I'm out of whack!). So I need sleep. Goodnight.

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