9:34 p.m. - 11/19/03
random recovery rambling.
For the most part, today was one of those better spent asleep, and circumstances allowed me to act on the fact. Of course, I've had to endure the usual verbal abuse about my lack of productivity and my complete laziness/ sloth. I'm not sure what merit I find in continuing to impose, upon my very atypical life, a set of typical expectations. It doesn't matter that I'm agoraphobic; normal people spend more time out in the world. It doesn't matter that I'm overwhelmed by my illness, my friends' illness, and other not so happy life circumstances; normal people make plans and act on plans and serve some purpose in the world. It doesn't occur to the mean part of my head that sometimes doing nothing, when you've grown accustomed to doing not-good things, actually requires effort. It doesn't occur to the mean part of my mind that invisible as my illness is, it's real, (damnit!) and I have the right to be tired from fighting it, I have the right to take credit for doing so, and I have the right to take my time in other areas where people who aren't me - those normal people - might currently be flourishing.
I don't even want to make this point because I feel so sick even thinking about it - but I was feeling really inferior to Sara these past few weeks. I was watching her work, enroll for school, volunteer, and I felt so utterly like a slug. Or maybe a snail. I felt so wrong for taking so much time getting better; I let the fact that she was doing those things override the fact that I'm not ready for them. I let that fact shame me, instead of being glad to know what I can do right now, to know that I've made progress, and believe I'll grow even better in awhile. It scares me, though. To think that I was feeling so inferior when, it turns out, her motives weren't actually healthy, and she lost track of caring for herself. I have to stop comparing; I really, really do. I have to stop holding myself up against everyone, including the other people I could be "if only." I need to give myself a break, even though that seems ridiculous. All I do is rest! What should I take a break from? But it isn't true. The invisible work wears this girl down. Now and again I realize, I'm not just climbing mountains; I'm trying to move them.
I did take a little time today to move myself out of depressive "I hate myself" mode, instead of simply sleeping through it. I don't really hate myself, after all, so I'd rather not feel that way. It's difficult to discern everything behind it right now, unfortunately. I tried to work my way through what I'm feeling, specifically the anger I feel about what's going on, about what's happened, and the anger I feel toward certain people, for certain decisions. I'm trying to understand how and why I'm upset angry with Sara and Jenna, so that I don't have to twist it into guilt. I don't want all this energy turned negative, against me. Shame will always cause pain; anger doesn't have to. Anger can be positive. Anger can be expressed in a manner that doesn't hurt anyone involved. These are all things I'm saying to counter what I witnessed growing up... I'm remodeling my brain, in hope of a different reality.
Speaking of differences, I called four people tonight. Impressive, yes? And I did it with the doctor's "just for the moment, no thoughts about what I need to do in order to do or be something in the future" message in mind. The only sucky part was that not one of the four people I called answered their phone. *Sob.* I know I have sucky phone karma, but I feel like the universe should acknowledge the extraordinary occurrence of Mary Making A Phone Call by allowing someone to be at the other end of the line. I did leave three messages, and I did get past my "I need to talk to someone...but I can't call Sara...I need to talk to someone...but I can't call Sara...I need to talk to someone...but I can't call Sara" impasse to realize there are other people I can call. And I know. You were home tonight and sitting by the phone, and if only I'd called *you!* I'm convinced that every one of my loved ones whom I didn't try was available. But that's ok. I heard recorded messages from dearling voices, and the stretch perked me up enough to reinsert some energy into my life/ day.
In other news, I think I might be onto something with an entirely new (and currently unfinished) version of the third play in RMM's three-play extravaganza, I'm obsessed with the desire to return to singing (with people), and apparently, the presence of a fairy wand between my fingers can still vastly improve my mood.
abracadabra and all that jazz-
chord
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