I have always knocked at the door of that wonderful and terrible enigma which is life.

Eugenio Montale

I hope everyone is having a better day than I. You must believe me when I say I hate to complain, but I just have to tell this story, which has made me think about something I read yesterday about how those in India sometimes starve themselves to death in an effort to hasten the same, thus relieving the pain of dying.

I ordered something last night from Amazon that was to be delivered this morning. The driver leaves a message that she cannot get inside the main gate and she is going to leave my package hidden outside the gate, and that a picture of its location would be provided. Also, " I will not be paid for the hour drive time if I have to come back and retrieve the package." No picture, no package. Amazon Assistant says it will now be delivered Monday, fine.

Since I am now near the office where my mailbox is located, and where I also knew more packages had been delivered, I tried to open my mailbox, but it is too full and is jammed. I go outside and try to talk to the woman in the office, who everyone hates because she is rude and a general annoyance, "Well, perhaps if you came to collect your mail more often, this would not happen now, would it?" I explain that because of my poor health, which she is fully aware of, I often do not walk to the office to collect my mail. It had only been a couple of days since I last went. "Ohhh, I am soooooooooo sorry", at which point I asked her where her empathy and compassion were, of which she did not respond. Back and forth, and I ended up telling her I actually try to avoid the mailroom on Saturdays when she is working because she crazier than a pet loon, As I was walking back to my apartment, I could hear her inside the office saying in a very snide manner, "Oh, where is your compassion etc" while squealing in delight because she knew that she had pressed my buttons. And boy did she. I am not sure I have been so angry or upset like I was this morning.
I have complained about this person in the past, a known nutcase who everyone is afraid of, however I am not afraid to complain and came back to my apartment and prepared a letter to the manager about what had just happen, and that I am now feeling harassed by this person. I will deliver the letter on Monday.

I am so tired of being sick, I cannot even explain it fully. So when I read that article about the practice done in India, I thought, "Okay, maybe this is an answer to my dilemma." No, I probably will not starve myself anymore than I am starving myself now, as I pretty much have to force feed myself because whatever obscure disease I have causes no appetite. I have been reading an article in the New Yorker about Joyce Carol Oates in which she discussed anorexia. "The appeal of anorexia is no mystery. It is a way of eluding people who pursue so closely, a way of channeling off energy in other directions." Ms, Oates has always been thin and often "starves herself into submission. " Not to punish the body but simply to exert one's will. She uses her thinness to become invisible, which is how I kind of feel, invisible. Invisible and broken hearted because so many still have no sense of compassion. I ask for very little, really. I am a giver. But today after that altercation over my mailbox key, I really did give serious thought about the starvation ritual. Too bad my psychologist has gone AWOL. LOL,