Fukuoka Disease

The Fukuoka disease is a disease to which Opfo users are susceptible.  The disease originates in the Prefecture of Fukuoka and manifests when an Opfo user chooses "Fukuoka" as a location, which abbreviates to "fuk" in the Opfo forum posts.

The Fukuoka disease is akin to the Wichita Falls Syndrome in that the abbreviation for Wichita Falls is "wtf," or else: "what the fuck," whereas "fuk" simulates "fuck" in location abbreviation for a post on Opfo.

So, upon explaining the Fukuoka disease as what happens to be an amazon woman psychiatrist on November 15, 2011 after people are calling my doctor who is out of town: the substitute amazon woman psychiatrist asks me all about the Fukuokas and I tell her about how the Fukuokas are akin to the Tapiocas out of Long Island and while I am seated on the four seater couch in the clinic office with a doctor and nurse, I tell them Obie One sits on side along with the Tapiocas, Fukuokas and myself who is schizophrenic.

More than that: I explain the good of the Fukuokas in staving off homeless people from bumming a cigarette on the street, how homeless people bumming a cigarette run off saying "my head ain't screwed on right" forgetting about a cigarette when I tell a bummer about the Fukuokas.

The amazon woman psychiatrist uncrosses her legs in her business skirt and suit. I see her turquoise underwear amidst pubic hair, which I believe that she does not shave on purpose.  The amazon woman doctor asks the fat nurse to leave the office and close the door behind her.

"But, why doctor?  I want some of his action too."

"Really?  But I don't like fat nurses.  Doctor?  Can you give me a blow job and fuck me silly?"

"Yes, indeed!  ... Out nurse ... this is a patient-doctor meeting now."

"I'll get your cock yet, mister," the nurse states leaving the office and closing the door.

The six foot, amazon doctor slips out of her navy blue skirt revealing stockings to her crevices and garters holding stockings to her hilt.  She straddles me on the four seater couch and pulls aside her turquoise coloured panties.  I grab on to her firm buttocks and thighs, rubbing.

My cock is hard fucking a doctor for two seconds that I last on the couch and I cum inside of her pussy impregnating her through my "stork" fantasies, as I find out later when DHHS contacts me with a bill for child support.

NPR Story 4/6/14

While listening to NPR's "Rape on Campus" story on April 6, 2014, it occurs to me out of my experience at elite schools that rapes and other vile, hazing behaviours are often unpunished in ivy league environments such as Amherst or the Groton School (i.e. Zeke Hawkins circa 1998) because the coterie code of conduct at such institutions seemingly fosters and condones such vile behaviours among elite (as in wealthy) student bodies: as the "Rape on Campus" story suggests in that the victim is denied counsel for her issue and told instead that "men will be men."

The Jimmy Two Heads Paradise:

"Well, he's mentally ill.  Why would you have any thing to do with him?"

- a quoted statement by two different people in my life about me to two different girlfriends of mine at different times over dinner -

One girlfriend runs out into the night crying and saying "there's nothing wrong with him."

Another girlfriend thinks it rude that it is mentioned at the dinner table and I fuck her silly a few more times until I move on to the next girlfriends.

So, I am at the nurse appointment after a medical test some years later and the nurse asks:

"How many partners have you been with?"

"I don't know: hundreds?"

"We only go up to 50+."

"OK. 50+. Will that include you, nurse?"

"Why yes: your mentally ill aura is too much for me to withstand."

"Bend over the desk and turn on some porn, nurse. It's time for my sponge bath!"

"Gladly!  They don't call you 'Jimmy Two Heads' for nothin'!" nurse Hatchet exclaims in a delightful whinny tone of voice while pulling up her white, nurse skirt and bending over the desk when the doctor enters the exam office.

"Nurse Hatchet!  What are you doing!? Umm ... Umm ... Never mind ... I see now," the 27 year old resident doctor states as her eyes wander across my manliness with pants around my ankles.

The six-foot-woman-doctor removes her khakis and white panties with pink polka dots on lace hems to her ankles bending over the desk along side Nurse Hatchet and I comply with medical orders sticking my clean, cut, experienced, penis head into each of the specimen's four orifices from behind them.

Cream of some young guy splatters the faces of the specimens hungry for more filled orifices, kneeling and swapping spit-cum when I am done with them after about two strokes per orifice.

I see a urologist who snips my seminal vesicle which feels like chilies passing from the day before so that Nurse Hatchet and the doctor's whose name I don't catch become pregnant in a fluke 2% chance that my seminal vesicle grows back, which it does.

So: I have two rug rats running around Nurse Hatchet and the six foot woman doctor's ankles playing "beep-beep' with matchbox cars on floors in Belize where there are tropical breezes and snorkel expeditions up vaginal shaped canals with either or both of my partners and other specimens of female persuasion who long for "Jimmy Two Heads."

Assessing Self-Esteem:

I think about killing myself every waking hour, several times per hour.  I experience suicide ideation whereby I imagine myself in any number of suicidal situations or plans.  One suicidal ideation thought that frequently crosses my mind as of the last few years is to "just go out under the bridge over 95 where the homeless people shit and slit your throat."

I determine that I experience suicidal ideation thoughts first when ten years old upon moving to New York City from overseas.  I stand at the window when ten years old and think about plummeting twenty stories to the below concrete.  I am in my forties now and still experience suicide ideation thoughts.  I attempt suicide when I am 35 years old by hanging myself with a rope, but even then I am not successful at suicide and: in my mind with low self esteem, not successful at anything in life.

I feel like I am a failure and embarrassment to myself, my family, people whom I meet and to people in the general community.  I am unable to secure employment or seemingly to make ends meet to earn money in spite of a zero point, zero parking ticket driver's license, clean background check and a command of the english language in written form while others are felons, con people or illiterate and yet are able to secure employment and/or garner an income.

Since working at a university and as a super of a building for eight years and quitting after attempting suicide by hanging myself, I don't see how it is fair for my "Peer Support w/ Therapy Dog & Sponsorship," non-profit solicitation idea would engender my call being routed to the Attorney General of the State wherein I live while there are legal marketing groups who solicit everything from end of life insurance to supposedly legal charities which are bogus in that the groups pay points on solicitations considerably diminishing the contributions.

While my two successive dogs since 1997 and myself perform about 200 visits as of 2014 to retirement facilities and hospital children wards under the auspices of "Peer Support w/ Therapy Dog & Sponsorship," my dogs and me solicit contributions in the community and online to help pay for running costs of visits.  But, good luck to me in parting people from their money for "Peer Support w/ Therapy Dog & Sponsorship" with commentary as "what are you doing that for?" or "get a real job" or "well, you'd never do that with my dog."

Further, I am told by a State representative that I am not allowed to establish a non-profit such as Peer Support w/ Therapy Dog & Sponsorship.  So, I stop visiting other people's parents and grandparents that other people don't visit at retirement facilities.

I try a clown gigging idea along with self published books.  On the day of the Boston Marathon bombing in 2013, someone calls police on me while I am dressed in a clown outfit drinking a soda pop from a brown paper bag.  Person says to me that I would be easy to find.  By being a clown, I learn that a typical caucasian male is likely to beat a person dressed as a clown and a hispanic male is likely to tip a clown.  So, I stop dressing as a clown with a sign selling self published books.

Now, I apply to anything and everything with my résumé on job sites to no avail.  All I ask is a position at about 63 hours/month paying $760/month.  No one acknowledges my efforts and I am unable to even interview for positions with no networking skills in spite of living in this community with permanence.  I don't know anyone who is willing to employ me at 12$/hr. for any hours.

Thus, with a rib contusion from where I am punched during a home invasion during 2001: labor is uncomfortable for me rendering painful spasms in my left ribs for which I am diagnosed four times with x-rays.  Yet, the people who perform the home invasion during which I am beat down are all successful bankers and lawyers now.

I feel like I am put down more often than not by various people in my life due to my diagnosis of "schizophrenia" whereby I wake up everyday with the thought: "oh god! not another day with schizophrenia."  I feel like I am stigmatised by anybody and everybody who has a mind to know my diagnosis because of "schizophrenia" and the word's connotations in the public's eye as broadcast in media that people with "schizophrenia" are "a criminal element."

There are exceptions, yet I feel miserable about my life and capabilities with low self esteem and a supposedly "mentally ill" mind, which causes good for nothing, basically nuts, crazy, teat sucker, mother fucker, chicken, schizo, asshole, zero credibility, pathetic and alkie who swills drinks with sperm comments directed at me by just about anybody in my life so that I believe the commentary and the commentary is a part of how I think about myself today.

In other words, I feel "put down by the world" time and time again and when I try to stand up, I am quickly put down by someone simply flipping a finger at me for parallel parking while they cross the double yellow around my vehicle to my thinking "I live my whole life just for this moment when someone flips the finger at me trying to parallel park," mirable dictu ad infinitum.

I hope for change in my thinking and the right to pursue happiness and thereby feel happy, but I feel that it is out of reach in regards to the nature of my life in the community wherein I live without capability to secure employment or develop some income generating idea.  I feel that "I am losing the battle" for life and the only time I feel at ease is when I sleep.

Yet, there is no help from anyone for my condition in spite of keeping health professional appointments since 1996.  No matter the medication or therapy, I still deal with suicidal ideation thoughts on a daily basis and I deal with them since 1984.  My two pets are the major reason I don't succumb to suicide ideation thoughts and act the thoughts out.  If I am able to secure employment at a living wage, I think that my thoughts can remedy in terms of the suicide ideation thoughts by being able to practice cognitive behavioral therapy more readily and having a purpose to each day of earning money at something I like doing as a job. 

Diagnoses and Prescribed Medicines:

1. malaria
2. epilepsy
3. schizophrenia
4. schizoaffective
5. bi-polar
6. tuberculosis
7. dipsomania
8. polydipsia
9. hyponaetremia
10. COPD
11. high blood pressure
12. vitamin D deficiency
13. inflamed lymph nodes
14. flu
15. addiction (tobacco)
16. suicidal ideation
17. stigma
18. rib contusion
19. sprained ankles
20. poison ivy
21. head trauma (scarred)
22. tardive dyskenisia

-------------------------------
1. vaccines -
2. penicilin - 1980
3. tetanus - 1980 to
4. dilantin - 1984 to 1987 - SEIZURE

5. haldol - 1993 - SZ

6. risperdal - 1996 to 2002 - SZ

7. benzodiazapine - 1997 to 1999 - SZ

8. paxil - 2000 - SZ

9. naltrexone - 2000 - DIPSOMANIA

10. cogentin - 2000 to 2001 - SZ

11. zyprexa - 2001 - SZ

12. depakote - 2001 - SZ

13. prolixin - 2002 to 2014 - SZ

14. hydrocodone - 2003 - UROLOGIST
15. lithium - 2008 - SZ

16. isoniazid - 2010 - TB

17. seroquel - 2011 to 2012 - SZ

Thinking Things:

Negations:

"Just go under the bridge over 95 where the homeless people shit and slit your throat."

"Just kill yourself, now."

"Nobody wants you around anyway."

"Nobody likes me."

"Maybe I should just kill myself."

"Hang yourself.  Find a tree limb and go out and hang yourself so nobody can save your life."

"Everybody wants me dead."

"I'm a good for nothing schizoid."

"I am a pathetic, crazy, teat sucker, asshole, mother fucker, piece of shit, chicken, schizoid who hears voices, alkie who swills his drinks with sperm."

and so forth ... which I want to supplant with thinking along these lines ...

Affirmations:

"I have the love of my dog, cat and wife."

"I love myself and cat, dog, wife."

"I am a good person."

"I am kind hearted."

"I like life."

"The world can be beautiful."

"Focus on the good of things."

"I have a lot to live for."

"I am enjoying myself and am never bored."

"I am eager to be out and about working around my community."

"In general, I like people, places and things and have an open mind."

"I respect myself and others."

"There are many more people in worse condition than me.  I should practice empathy and enlightenment of my condition in the world relative to others."

... and so forth.

Ratio'ed Environmental and Psychological Triggers:

For 21 years as of 2014, I have suicide ideation everyday since my first of nine schizophrenia related hospitalisations: three hospitalisations during the fall of 2002.  I think that my suicide ideation is triggered by my thinking of the word "schizophrenia," as in "oh god! not another day with schizophrenia" every day upon waking.

When I think of the words "schizophrenia" or "mental illness," it conjures thoughts of stigma that surround the term: stigma of which I believe am victim.  I think that in general, the public is disgusted by the term "schizophrenia" and people who are diagnosed with it, which renders me with a sickly feeling of flu like symptoms due to seeming, irreconcilable differences in the community where I live.

Inter relations with people are sometimes difficult for me because I perceive people to kick me in the knee if I have a bum knee the way I perceive people to stigmatise me because of my status in the community as a consumer with a diagnosis of "schizophrenia."

So, I need a brainstorming model for thinking "outside of the box" considering a "world view" of people, places and things.  I need to be able to account for the fact that life is good for me marrying last year to a long time girl friend, a warm place to sleep and two loving pets while others are in much more dire straits.  I need to act without expecting.

I try "getting away" from the whole "schizophrenia" dialogue in my mind by seeking work only to have doors close and I try "embracing" schizophrenia by writing about it in blogs which I publish into books.  It is like "schizophrenia gets me down and won't let me back up" with stigma that surrounds the label in media and, as a result, in communities among people who know me and don't know me.

I don't think it far fetched that when the landlord coops chickens in the back yard, kids in the neighbourhood where I live cluck like a chicken when I am around different parts of town due to famed, local journalism about me in a weekly newspaper as to founding a radio theatre group circa 2000 to 2001.  Yet, when I explain my suspicion to various health professionals and others including family that I am being ostracised in the community: I am told that "it is all in your head."

I lose my "voice" to schizophrenia and have only begun to regain my "voice" as of the last two years by writing about experiences and thoughts on different subjects.  I consider myself as trying to follow the "Socratic" teaching of not being offensive to people and exemplifying etiquette inter relationally, yet I lapse in composure when at odds with someone who is apparently "out there and not there to help."

So, concerning suicide ideation: I think that I have identified the cause of it by citing internal thinking triggers and triggers in my environment.  Now, I need ways of coping with the "elephant in my head" (namely, the word: "schizophrenia") and move on in progressing days of my experiences and "thinking" at forty years old.

Is there or are there solutions to the mere word "schizophrenia" incurring "suicide ideation" in me and are there solutions to coping with others in a location where I haven't the best of luck with run-ins where I live between myself and others?  Is there a way of keeping from being angry over memories of past, negative experiences surrounding what I think is because of "schizophrenia," which also triggers "suicide ideation" in me?