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August 21, 1999

The paranoia has returned. I start to think that there are chemicals in the air that are making me sick. People seem to be following me or reading my mind. Everyone knows that Iím crazy. The germs will infect me. I wonít touch door knobs or sink faucets. I use tissues when I have to touch these surfaces. I still wash my hands 10 times though.

I am regressing. I sleep with a stuffed animal clutched to my chest. I feel safer that way. When I was a little girl, at bedtime, I would put my stuffed animals around me in a circle. In the circle I felt safe. I buy dolls and display them (in their boxes) around my room. I tell people that I am a collector, but thatís not true. The dolls and stuffed animals around my room make me feel like a little girl again. Back when life was simple, before the pain started.

The vomiting is becoming natural. I eat a few bites of plain pasta and my stomach turns. My body forces the food out. I swig Maalox right out of the bottle, three to four times a day. Iím dizzy and weak. Iím moody and withdrawn. Tired all the time. I donít know whatís happening to me.


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