8:50 p.m. - 07/02/02
i suppose ::this:: is why all the real ones have their sidekicks.
maybe this is just 'bells for her' talking but, I'm sitting here playing mindless Internet games and thinking about my sister, and I'm realizing the situation in a whole new light. I know we need to work on it, we have a lot to do, and right now it's pretty screwy/painful - but - the fact that we're only messed up now because we've loved each other so fiercely our whole lives...I mean that's pretty brilliant isn't it? we're only in pain because we've loved each other so much. that's almost beautiful. when we survive this, when we resurrect, it will be a beautiful truth.
I love her so much.
in other news I just tried to call (the other one) Sara for what I'm fairly sure is the trazillionmillionbillionth time, only to find out that her phone still has no power to call forth her presence. I'm trying to keep from worrying, but lately I'm desperately incapable of that, and so I've moved on to trying to rationalize my fears. For instance, what am I scared of? - well, I'm scared of the fact that this is about the time she went into the hospital last year and maybe something really horrible has happened and she's back in the hospital again. ok. first of all, people don't just go into the hospital because they did it the year before. am I planning to go back in August? no. and normal people *do* go on vacations over the summer, don't they? yes, they do. and since we didn't get to talk last weekend, she might have gone on vacation without having the chance to talk to me. how likely is this? very! besides which, there's the very important reality that if something bad *did* happen and she *is* having a hard time, the hospital might be the very best place for her. I mean, aren't we proof of that? didn't we show them how good a little asylum-stay can prove? she's a brilliant, resillient girl, and she will make it back like pink carnations. she will be ok.
the only problem is how exhausting it is to repeat that monologue every five seconds. if I could just hear from her. and silje. and...erm...could everyone on the planet just leave a message on my voicemail?- "hi, Mary, just calling to let you know that I'm ok." maybe I'll bring out the phone book, start in the a's and go through, checking people off one by one. if only okayness were a solid thing. I could spend my life checking up on people. I could very easily go crazy this way.
so things are starting to slip into place before me. I swear sometimes I get so caught up in the individual pieces of the puzzle, I forget they fit together. I've been so busy contemplating how I'm going to heal my school compulsivity that I haven't even bothered to ask myself what's going on that I'm feeling a need to be compulsive. why am I suddenly sixteen times the worrywart I normally embody and what feelings push me so painfully I feel the need to run into my books again?
I picked up my mom's copy of Codependent No More and paged through the first few sections. I realized that this isn't so much a new mountain for me, as the other side of one I didn't realize I was climbing. Meaning, I'm a lot better off in terms of caretaking than I've been basically since birth. I don't put the needs of others before my own, I know what I deserve, and I know how to use my voice in many, many situations. I didn't really realize I was working on caretaking while I was there, but the truth is, you naturally stop putting *so much* energy toward other people when you fuel a little into yourself. I think one of the reasons I was able to take care of myself so successfully (eventually) there was because *everyone else* was taken care of. People had support, they made progress, if they were struggling, someone was there to guide and listen and help. I didn't have to spend so much time breaking out in hives over their pain which left me free to rash out over mine.
Which is wonderful. I don't know that I ever could have quit caretaking or learned to take care of myself if I hadn't been in an environment like that. (Not that I don't still struggle with it, of course.) But it set me up for a problem outside: people in this world don't have constant support, some don't have *any* support, and some are completely overwhelmed with their pain. And there's close to nothing I can do. There's nothing I can say to convince someone they need help, no matter what role I have in their life, and there's nothing I can do to help them find it if they happen to agree. I know now that my happiness does not come second to everyone else's; I know how to stable even if my parents are crazy unhappy- how to put myself first and feel ok about it. But I still feel incapable of being happy if everyone else isn't. Not because I come second but because, it's just *so hard* to see anyone in pain. Especially pain that I've experienced. And then, on top of this, there's the reality that my self-esteem is always better when I'm actively bettering someone's world, and right now I'm not doing any of that. It's my old issue of I can't do it all, so I don't know how to do anything. I can't volunteer here because I can't volunteer everywhere. I can't say hi to you because I can't tell you everything I need to say before it's time to leave. I just - don't know. I know that I deserve to be happy; I know how to handle my life. I even know how to not feel bad about my happiness because someone else is struggling. But I don't know how to not feel bad because someone else is. I can't survive when the whole world is falling apart and everyone seems to be either caught under the rubble or indifferent toward the destruction. I either need superpowers or I need a really great therapist NOW.
I guess it's good I have the latter. Superdoc. I've actually been thinking about calling him that from now on. He's needed a nickname for some time, and even though I don't think he has magic powers (well, only as many as *I* do) his brilliance is pretty uncanny some days. Maybe he'll have some insight. I have a feeling it's going to be really hard to break the compulsivity cycle with these feelings so strong.
Having the flu helps. And as he occasionally reminds me, there are worse things than learning too much. But then, there are better things as well.
The other possibility that occurred to me is that I might be really yearning to have someone take care of me, but I can't fathom why. I seem pretty good. I have imaginary people who lie with me and tuck me in, and Albus Dumbledore presides over my dreams. I'm a pretty lucky kiddle, really.
Just desperate for a way to spread the joy...
crazy
chord
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