2:15 p.m. - 07/05/02
->take good care of my baby...*
as usual the idea of being patriotic, even for a day, alarmed me to the point I had to play several politically-angry-ani songs, chant "there's *so much room* left of democrat", and redefine 'independence' as a personal rather that national idea. I can celebrate my own continued sojourn toward freedom, but this nationalistic propaganda is a little much. america does not need an excuse to be overly-patriotic, especially in "the wake of 9/11" - for some reason the fourth of July comes anyway.
I didn't see a single firework yesterday, not even a friggin snap pop or a defunct snake, which was a little depressing in spite of my lacking spirit. explosions are pretty- and after all, is there a better way to celebrate American greatness than with Chinese innovation? urgle. I really hope Canada is a step in the right direction. or wait, I was talking Argentina yesterday. Barbados? somewhere. desperately seeking escape. she is desperately seeking escape.
I managed to distance myself from the absolute *rapture* that is preparing for college applications. there was a daria marathon on last night, and I felt a little better about my status in the conformist world after watching everyone's favorite slow-talker for awhile. daria did her best to remind that despite the annoying reality that people who are realists in the face of overwhelming naivete tend to be pegged as dark, depressed, and cynical, occasionally they're just smart. daria isn't an artist feeding on depression. she's just looking at things the way she sees them, and she doesn't always smile. I happen to have gone through fucking crazy depression; that doesn't make me an adolescent poser. I guess, really, the only way I can be a poser is to pretend that I don't deal with this shit. I don't want to do that, but at the same time, I desperately need to find something other than mental illness that inspires me to write. my entire portfolio should not be grounds for a psych examination, now, really...
my bike ride down the road-that-mary-built is getting frightfully easy, even in the crazy july heat. basically, the only remaining challenge is determining a decent enough cool down that I don't feel so sick as my heart rate drops back to normal. other than that, I seem to have the hills down to a decent pattern, and pretty soon, I'm going to have to expand my horizons to keep myself challenged. I don't know that I've ever maintained a decent exercise routine (not that I do this solely for exercise; the landscape here is pretty, and I like flying down the streets, building my own breeze.) as a kid, I hated normal 'exercise' (and biking didn't really count on those crazy N*land plains) and in my eating disorder, I never had the energy to feel good about the pattern. this ride would never have gotten easier with an (active) eating disorder, though it would definitely have gotten longer. but this way, I've come to the point where my body is strong and used to it, and sooner or later my skin *will* be darker than the computer paper. (come on, now!) anyway, I'm happy about this. I'm active, I'm not compulsive about it, I'm drinking good amounts of water, and I'm running into happy little dogs. that sounds almost - healthy?
one of the books I'm reading right now has a lot to do with grief over illness, and I'm finding it really interesting, even though a lot of it is different than my experience. it talks a little about having to detach from old personalities and the effect of that on old relationships, as well as what it means to have to re-learn creativity. granted, I didn't really lose my ability to write while recovering (I pretty much just gained the ability to talk) but one of the points she makes, about how she had to learn how to create *differently* - with more structure and less outbursts - sounds familiar to me. mostly, it's just nice to be reading lauren slater again. lauren slater is fucking brilliant.
i'm also doing some reading on codependency, though i have to do it in secret in order to keep my mom from realizing i'm borrowing the book (she has some personal notes in the margins, and even though i'm not reading them, i don't think she'd approve. sneaky little girl.) anyway, the current chapter's on detachment, and it's really opening my eyes. i'm not so terribly codependent as i used to be; after all, i know now how to take care of myself, but i don't (really) know how to not take care of others, my parents excepted. i'm starting to realize that this underlying idea i have of, "if i quit worrying about this i won't figure it out"/ "if i continue worrying about this i'll find a soultion" is pretty much false. take the epidemic of eating disorders that tends to drive me off the deep end. is obsessing over it constantly actually going to lead to me to a magic solution? I really doubt it. unfortunately, the idea of detaching and accepting that I have no control over other people engaging in EDs and not getting help, is not one I can accept right now. I refuse to accept it right now. and I don't fully know why.
we used to have the serenity prayer hanging in our bathroom, and of course, it was ever-so-popular among the twelve-steppers at red. I'm starting to see how much of my personality is reflected in how little I always liked this prayer. "acceptance" seems like an escape to me. if I accept this situation, I can never change it! and so forth. I still feel like there's truth in it, but there's also truth in the fact that, I can never change it period. I can never change the millions of people who are suffering.
remember being eight and thinking, betweeen the three of us, we can solve pollution, world hunger, *and* war?
the other point that is helping me gain some perspective on my (somewhat-dwindled) codependency is the reference to how it rages in families where one member is struggling with a compulsion such as alcoholism or an eating disorder. I see my own obsessiveness as completely justified at the same time that I *can't stand* people caretaking with me as the focus. I don't see my addiction as grounds for other people to control me at the same time that I'm constantly trying to interfere with other people based on the same (or similar) illnesses. it's a bit disconcerting to realize action that's made sense to you since birth is hypocritical...
I wrote this in my paper journal yesterday: What do you my actions right now suggest about my feelings for my friends? Am I saying I love them too much to trust them? To let them make mistakes, grow, learn, and be independent the way I can now? I don't mean to be this way, and I certainly don't doubt that people like Sara and Silje are capable of overcoming their own problems, I'm just incapable of *letting* them. I'm incapable of seeing them in pain, even when I know pain tends to be finite. I can't bear the possibility of losing someone, even someone I don't know. I think, also, that I forget the 'epidemic' is made up of Sara-s and Silje-s and me-s. it's made up of people capable of winning the fight when they choose to begin it. only, sometimes people don't have time to finish it. sometimes the physical damage cathces up before they have the chance to really feel life. that's what scares me, really. I just want to hurry everyone into their own healing, so I don't have to face the reality that people leave and don't come back. the reaper is real.
I don't believe in death. I'm completely serious; I can't say the word aloud. It's "losing someone" - it's "what happened with Tracy"...but it's never so dangerous as a five-letter word. It's never so real as it would be coming out of my mouth.
What is it Albus says? "Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself." I knew that was true the first time I read it, but a lot of good knowing has done me. Oh, that I could be as wise a wizard with half his marbles.
So I am starting to realize some things- though mostly, I'm just struck by the fact that naming "codependency" in the self-help section was actually the truest piece toward healing it. Simply because it announces the problem as a personal one and forces people who suffer to look at themselves (the exact antidote.) I still need to figure out why on earth I feel like I'll die if other people aren't ok. Bestselling self-help books and it still comes back to the time with Superdoc.
bother.
chord
i wish i was a princess with armies at her hand/ i wish i was a ruler, who'd make them understand...
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