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7:25 p.m. - 04/04/03
inspection pt 1.
I've had the theme from "Fiddler On The Roof" in my head all day. What does that signify, you think? ...Aigh.

Mum is none too happy about the amount of time I'm spending on-line lately. I finally gave in and told her that I'd started a "new forum" that required some extra attention during this initial period. I think I've left a note for every friggin person in diaryland. No, that's an exaggeration. I skipped myself...Draining, but lots of people have offered support, and I need this sort of mindless work right now anyway, as I'm not to keen on investigating the icky feelings that so interest the Doc. What can I say? Diving into feelings which hurt from a distance doesn't sound so much like a weekend retreat...

But on the mindless distraction side, I really appreciate everyone who is supporting caged. What we really need right now is submissions. Everything I've received is up. Everything I've received consists of the one entry penned by our darling perdiendome, so you see, you need to get cracking. I'm going to try and post some "submission ideas" to push people along, but goodness knows if I'll be kicked offline or feel too sick (f*cking migraine) to do so. We shall see...

So what am I really supposed to be talking about...Feelings. I do not want to go here. That fear is a feeling, right? I guess I already am here. I just don't want to open my eyes and take a look around.

My only real epiphany around this whole ordeal has to do with his idea about ambivalence, about the two equal and opposite forces (toward and away from attachment) tearing me in half. I've started to realize how many situations have come up along that theme lately. I had to decide if I wanted a friend from offline to access my journal (no.) I had to decide if I wanted my parents to know any of what is going on in my life right now (i.e. who Shannon is, about caged, etc. yes and no respectively.) I sent my sister two plays I felt really exposed me- the first a pretty bare discussion of my own illness and the second with an (obvious) girl-girl relationship... (Luckily, she's responded really well, so far.) Starting caged meant inviting into my life something that could be alternatingly healing and excruciating, and I've never felt sure about wanting that. Even something as good as talking to Shannon on the phone was a stretch. That "how close do I really want to let this person come?" issue has gotten pretty steep. I even made references to worrying about the word "love" because of those relationships that have soured its meaning. Or whose endings have soured its meaning. I try to keep in mind how much I loved some people (like Billy) up until the end. After the end. How much I loved them until I didn't anymore, or at the very least until I did differently. No, dear reader, I am not at all confused.

Blah. What I don't understand is how simple (if stressful) feelings exploded into such huge shame, hopelessness, and emotional wreckage. If I look at the issue as it came up with the doc (how do I hang onto this person after we've communicated so poorly and I'm in such pain?) I suppose it could "just" be a response to the post-Rogers trauma that was triggered. (Uncharacteristic mismatch followed by total abandonment/ loss.) I definitely felt shame, grief, hopelessness, etc after I lost them. Shame because it (is almost instinctive and) explained why they were suddenly gone, which I usually see as better than a random injury. Grief because they were gone and hopelessness because that meant no one would ever come again. I'm not sure why all this is so heightened for me. I know I think of decisions in an overly "permanent" sense. So, for instance, telling this one friend that I'd prefer she not read my diary for the time being means never having the opportunity to share it with anyone I know ever again. But even that, in the extreme, doesn't seem to warrant an intensity of emotion parallel to the post-Rogers feelings. I mean, I have lovely people who do read my journal, and if worse came to worse, I still read it, and I think I could survive that way, somewhat.

The others...? Choosing not to let my parents know anything (until tonight, and only on one issue) means, in the extreme, never letting them in. There's grief in that, but not to the same extreme. I think I'd have a more fearful/ shamed response had I done the opposite; sadly, I'm more scared of letting them in than of not doing so. But I still love them, and hurt that I can't bring them closer (and feel safe)... The plays I shared with my sister were definitely difficult. I kind of led into the first one by including Sarah in the list of people who received my EDAW e-mail, something that took a lot of guts at the time. The second I just really wanted to share as a playwright does with a director, even though the sister-to-sister sharing terrified me. I think fear and shame make sense during in this particular scenario because I had no clue how she would respond, I've been hounded a lot about my sexuality in the past, and even though I don't know what it is, I'm ashamed of it. (No matter what it is, I'm ashamed of it. That's part of why I don't know, methinks.)

And caged just needed to happen, so I did it. I guess the need to attach and understand won out with that one. But there's definite discussion material in the choice, and I need to go into it further. Eventually.

So, what I could tell the doc as of tonight is that in several situations lately, I've had the choice of keeping people at a distance or letting them in further. The feelings I thought would kill me combined terror, shame, guilt, grief, and hopelessness. The last one I think is due to the permanence-issue in my thinking. So, maybe I can challenge that a little. Aigh. Watch me intellectualize to avoid actually entering any of these feelings. Exciting, yes?

In other news, I want to give the entire population of the world a magic microphone that they can talk into at any point, and be heard, and which will keep their words safe. I want to sell (or rather, give) these door-to-door. And that's what I'm asking for with caged-freed submissions. I know that every single person who knows this exists feels or thinks or knows something else that other people need to hear and that zie needs to say, and that means at least two people will benefit from every entry, and that's really cool. So, if I haven't sold you yet, I'll have to take it up a notch to outright begging. In the meantime, do me a favor and keep the forum from becoming Chordchild Against the Glorification of Eating Disorders (with some support from perdiendome.) Oh, and you can go ahead and join the new ring, too.

I bought myself a "Good Eater Award" today. It's a ribbon, just like Rae had once. It's yellow, and has a monkey eating a banana. I love it.

chord

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