Most people in the Western World keep themselves busy ruining their health and body shape stuffing tons of junk food and trans fats into their mouths. And sweets. Wondering why they're getting fatter and fatter.
The academical curve is increasing at fitness centres because even people who can actually read and write have missed all published warnings.
I keep myself busy trying to gain weight. How to has become an obsession to me. I never was a big eater. I'm also fussy. The list of food I don't digest is as long as a walk from Rome to Pisa. I prefer chicken or turkey from pig and cow. I don't drink milk, I don't eat cheese, I don't eat nuts - basicly because it gives me a toothpain. That's worse than migraine.
I realise that I'm in some sort of denial here.
It's like phobias. - I have lots of phobias.
In my nightmares I'm swallowed by monstrous supernatural snakes.
Once when I was out walking in the forrest, I almost trampled on a small black steel worm. This 2 inch of worm became a huge black cobra in my head. With yellow eys and chop teeths.
My escalator phobia is just tirring. Modern society is full of escalators. Everywhere. At airports, in shoppingcentres, at railway stations, restaurants etc. Elevators are not trendy anylonger - except at hotels. Which I'm grateful for. However, some hotels seem to fancy the outdoor elevators. A dead end to me. I simply can't live there. Because I suffer from acrophobia. Moving my body 5 inches over ground raises me bodytemperature from warm to steaming in matters of milli-seconds.
The acrophobia prevents me from enjoying to fly. As long as we are above the skies it's relatively okay, but below the skies. That's scarry. I want to jump. Leading to a rapid decrease of my popularity barometer.
Ferris wheels are no-no areas to me. For the sake of the spectators.
I cannot sit at the balcony in a theatre. On the other hand, first row is also taboo. Getting me too close to the orchestra pit.
I cross bridges with my eyes closed.
The list keeps getting longer and longer. Supermarket anxiety for instans. - But that's a positive one, I think.
Once I thought therapy would cure me. I was wrong. Psycologists need to get butter on their bread. Therefore they manipulate your brain to believe that you are crazier than you are. I ended up being classified as a hopeless case.
The phobias prevent me from facing reality. People laugh at me. I don't care. I'm happy with my phobias, my food anxieties and my need to do my morning routines in the correct order. - Without them I wouldn't be me.