"Oh, She's an Attention..." Does Not Compute, No I Wouldn't Assume Any Relevance

There's a thought that's come up in my mind before, that I wouldn't address because it's a sick issue if it had any bearing to the situation at hand, which is my life. Actually, it came up as a joke in my original "episode"... "She's an attention whore... She's an attention whore... Actually, maybe she's starving for attention." That's the jist of it, it came up a little wordier than that. So, this is a "just in case" blog, not that I would really assume attention whore is an issue in any one's mind, when it comes to me. When do I ever get compliments of any sort? Almost never, it's incredibly rare. Maybe once a year. I sit in a hollow box with my guides and Ian all the time, not fragments of my imagination like the world thinks, real entities that cannot be seen. Where does the concept of "attention whore" come up in society? Actually, it comes up with pre-teen women, when they wear revealing clothing to grab the attention of men, not understanding that they are not ready for sex yet. And that's where the concept ends, after that, the term "attention whore" in my mind, has no other value in society. No, no one gives me compliments ever, it's just put-downs, and it's come up before that it might have made a difference, at vital times, like I said. I state this matter of factly. I wouldn't assume "attention whore" is a relevant term to me, because if it is, it's kind of like calling the starving children of Africa fucking fatasses. I told Hector one time, I requested a drawing from him, on a completely different note here... of me surrounded by pieces of string with little rolled up pieces of paper attached to them, prayers. He didn't draw it, that was probably too much of a challenge anyway... And like always, everything goes back to "that one time at Unity Hospital." They put me in a room, locked, bright lights, little mattress, nothing to use for fun except my own voice. Later, I let it slide that the doctor told me I was screaming for three hours, no I wasn't, I was singing. Then, right before they came in, I started exercising my vocal cords because I know that I have weak vocal cords that need strengthening. Of course in this situation, I would have to be an idiot not to know that yes, they DO have audio recordings in these places, don't ask the doctor, she's not going to be honest about that. What happens in this situation... As I talk to the people passing by the room, each time someone passes, they put a little sticky note or piece of paper over the little window there. Just a small piece of paper, each time someone passes, a new sticky note. Like the rolled up pieces of paper, the prayers of the people counting on me. This thought occurs to me, and I can't help but think of those little sticky notes as prayers.