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9:24 p.m. - 09/17/03
somewhere where the orchids grow...*
Hello Kitty and a hugely powerful Tori Amos quote (from "Mother") are the banner material above the white box where I am writing this. Now isn't that an interesting combination...

In my e-mail, a spam message has the subject line, "You have been depressed lately!" and my response is somewhere between, "Du-uh" and "Ya think?" both equally annoyed and pre-adolescent-ish...though actually, yesternight was rather lovely, and there have been some good moments here and there over the past couple of days. I'm starting to think my guestbook is better reading than this journal, just because so many kind notes have shown up there lately. The incredible Family I have definitely feeds me the strength I need. It helps to have that extra bit of love during the rough times and this remains a rough time, though I like to forget that in my eternal quest for impenetrable denial (which I seem incapable of achieving considering I also want to be the most honest and evolved version of who I am; the two apparently contradict each other. damn.)

lots of feelings regarding eating disorders lately. lots of spinning thoughts. my own eating disorder, as I've mentioned, has been more vocal recently - or as the doctor likes to quote me, "my eating disorder is being really mean right now." I'm having a slightly easier time because I haven't given into it with even the slightest meal restriction, which means that I've given it *no* behavioral cue that I believe its lies. whether or not that's true, it's an effective defense strategy. it's not true, really. the ed thoughts are hugely painful, and though there has been less shame in them lately, I'm still frustrated. even if I'm dealing with "but you'd just feel so much *calmer* if you purged" instead of "you fucking pig! you greedy whore! what the hell are you doing! purge! now!" I'd rather not deal with either. and, wow, just writing that second voice has made me lightheaded. I hate this disease. that's been very clear lately. confused a bit by the fact that I'm also ashamed of this illness - a large part of my "any other disorder" thinking the past few days has had to do with this "eating disorders are superficial and shallow and entirely about weight/ looks/ etc" mentality that I *know* is innacurate but occasionally start to believe again. and when I start to believe it, I start to feel hugely ashamed of this illness because I don't want to be "that sort" of person; also, I feel like there's no justification to my having an eating disorder if it's about those things - because I only cared about them after I developed the illness. so, it's another way of saying I shouldn't be sick. even though if I look at the real issues of the illness, it makes all the sense in the world that I developed it. control, need, deprivation, scarcity, shame? if that's at the core of this (for me) it makes hella more sense than calories, weight, looks, and media.

though seriously, I hate the media. I mean, I'm finding it infuriating. and here's the thing: I haven't watched any television in weeks! so we're talking solely the radio, magazine covers in stores, Internet, (et cetera) here - a very limited amount of media. perhaps, that's lowered my threshhold; I don't know. but I've felt furious. I've tried to create art about it (the same passion that led me to write Alarm those many months ago) - but I can't transform the feeling into anything art-like. I just have the feeling. violent anger, basically. desperate, hopeless, rage. lack of control. I hate this culture. I hate watching people stay sick and watching the hypocrisy in the commercial world. and I've been more than ready to cry lately over the amount of lives being lost to this illness. I've done some crying and some raging, but not enough to get it out. I know my survivor's guilt is high right now, but that isn't *all* of it. it isn't all unhealthy; it doesn't all have to do with illness. some of it is just the very real experience of having an illness, being so much closer to health than I was, knowing people who are very sick, and having lost a friend to this. I've been its victim, and I've seen it kill. what else do I have to watch it do? how much more can I take?

in better news, a non-spam message in my mailbox has the subject line "I love my brave cousin"...and that's so unspeakably lovely. another - that I haven't had the courage to read yet, for fear I'll burst with gratitude - says "thank you." what a gift to live a life that compells gratitude. (and not even just mine!)

I meant to be much more in-depth than this; actually, I meant to further - if not finish - talking about the last few days with my grandmother. but I'm just really exhausted (energy is still at an impressive low) and really focused on a different grief at the moment. Tori's playing "From the Choirgirl Hotel" in the background, and I'm remembering...all the pain I went through before treatment. All the pain I went through and witnessed during. All the pain that's still here.

if I could only show you, somehow, what life's supposed to be. (and that it's possible.)

chord

p.s. I didn't call Rogers today, but I did call Shan (even though she gone - out partying I hope!) ... I will try Rogers again, at least twice, in the next week. I want to leave it loose because I'm so energy-deficient; however, I know part of the sadness creeping up and in has to do with not connecting with them...so, soon. I promise myself that.

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