I pronounce myself as fit as a high school child, which is not to say, that fit, as I could be any person in high school. I only did 20 push-ups and sit-ups w/o any rest between them with relative ease, which is sub-par for being "fit". But it is an improvement from what I have been doing, which is mostly a decadent lifestyle of reading to escape reality, and when I do confront reality I turn to the past and memories that comfort or hurt, or both, but they are familiar and do not scare me at least.
My next goal is to work up my aerobic and strength level to basic requirements for army basic training (in other words to be considered of average physical fitness level, the bare minimum for my age group 21-24), which should take me a while, considering my lackadaisical pessimism and ability to be dedicated to a regimented schedule. It is still a goal though, and it will involve aerobic exercise in my workout instead of pure strength training, which I enjoy, but I get intensely strong and bulked up that it scares me when taking supplements to stimulate gH release. Somewhere on this journey I want to drop quite a bit of weight and the aerobic exercise should do that, while offsetting the weight gain of anaerobic exercise (but increasing my metabolism too, a good plus), so hopefully a reasonable goal of 140lb while looking like 120lb and fitting into size 28 jeans again with ease will be a reality. Oh how I lust for you, size 28, normal cut with a reasonable amount of give.

Here are the goals I have set for myself (with the equipment I have, I can't swim or do pull-ups, and used the alternate test of a stationary bike instead of a 2 mile run.):
push-ups: minimum 42 in 2 minutes
2 minute rest
sit-ups: minimum 50 in 2 minutes
2 minute rest
stationary bike: 6.2 miles in at least 24.5 minutes

After I reach average fitness levels I'll do more endurance training with weights while alternating with the stationary bike on off-days so that I remain aerobically fit. It is embarrassing to be quite strong and tire out in 5 minutes because I never did any aerobic exercise. What's the point in being strong if you can't keep it up? I have a plan. Now I need to execute it and keep with it.

Anyway, off of that subject. I've been re-reading House of Leaves, which is a good book, but annoying at times. I'm at the part where you need a mirror to read parts of it, where it starts to get crazy, but not nearly as crazy as it will get. It's poetry with words, or artwork with words, something like that. I don't know how to describe it, but I really should finish it. I admire the sheer propensity of the author and that it got published. The story is very engaging, Gormenghast like in a lot of respects (organic house as to an organic castle), and the side story, or maybe the main story (you don't know what is the main story honestly is also a good exploration into psychosis, perhaps familiar at times, and altogether frightening at others. I'm 1/4 done. Last time, somewhere before Christmas, I was 1/2 way through when really bad depression hit me and I was unable to concentrate on anything and read anything so I had to stop. I intend to finish it this time, even though it's hard to digest due to the portentous style of it, but enjoyable as an exercise to frustrate and elucidate my mind.

Brianna called me today, like she has been doing everyday from the Ward. She said one of the staff members was going out to go rent Donnie Darko and get a pizza for everyone, since it's the weekend. It's amazing how much modern wards have changed compared to the popular image of them. They are really quite nice, except when you are on suicide watch and you aren't allowed to sit up, etc., until you earn a modicum of trust from the staff. Sometimes the Dr.'s and psychiatrists are pure assholes, I suppose after seeing so many people come in and go, and sometimes repeat people, you start to lose hope in helping people and become a jerk. That is my theory on that. Brianna has the same Dr., as the last time she was in the hospital ward, and she says she's a bitch. I feel sorry for her. They put her on wellbutrin and trazadone, but the trazadone doesn't work for her, and she's on 100mg, so tomorrow she's being switched to some other sleeping pill, but I didn't recognize the name of it. They still have her on night watch, where they keep the doors open and someone sits outside on a chair and occasionally shines a flashlight inside to check. When I was on night watch, I couldn't turn off the lights and I couldn't get out of bed without an armed staff member (with a gun no less) to watch me pee, which is the only reason I could move from a prone position. Sitting up was not even allowed. The door was kept open and he and another staff member played chess or cruised around on the internet while keeping an eye on me. Besides all this, what I was getting at is that you get to do what you want during the day at most wards except for group therapy or whatever they push on you, and daily or close to daily visits from your Dr. or psychiatrist to monitor your condition. The door always remains open in suicide wards but you get used to it pretty fast. When I was in Cedar house I didn't even get checked on while sleeping and I got to close my door and had a roommate (everyone has a roommate in wards unless you get put in isolation for violating a rule -- i.e.. cutting, smoking where it's not allowed, not doing your chores, and so on. I miss Cedar House honestly. It felt like a nice, well setting, except you saw the staff once in a while. Pretty much you were living with other "afflicted" people with their own disorders, but everyone got along and I'd read the paper every morning and politely refuse coffee (not sure why I didn't want coffee -- strange), and then sit back on the couch curled up with my feet under me and watch the TV and zone for a while and then go outside and just breath the air and smoke some cigarettes and have small chat with other people. It was like a real life, several people there that had been there for a month or so used the place as their residence while trying to find alternate places to live and trying to find a job. It was pretty cool. If I go "crazy" again, I hope I go back to Cedar House. It's nice. It's bizarre for me to be lusting after the comfort and protection of a mental ward. The world has changed in so many ways, we treat the the socially unfit with kindness and no disrespect, yet we are a strongly racist society that enjoys to go to war with nations that have no ability to even fight back, and for reasons that aren't reasons at all. I'm saddened by the progress and lack of progress in this world.