11:01 p.m. - 10/11/03
oo,oo,ooh - what a little moonlight can do-oo-ooh.
Ok, first off - I made new rings! This is very important, and you definitely want to check out each one (and probably join as well.) Also, if you are a gold member/ Harry Potter fan, I would like to inform you that there is no Ron Weasley diaryring. I think this is entirely insane, considering the number of HP rings, but I didn't make one as of yet because I feel like there's someone out there with more of a passion for Ron, who might go to the trouble of putting an image or a good quote with the code. i.e. I am lazy, and two rings were enough for today. But you should definitely check out those two rings. (For the record, I did finally go to the trouble of updating the page that describes all the rings I run, so you can check that out, too, if you want the full scoop.)
That said, it's been almost 36 hours since I saw the doctor, and I just want to say that I'm seriously displeased about not seeing him on Monday. I do not like this leaving thing at all - but for good reason. I'm pissed that he's not going to be around because I just talked to Sara who I love so freaking much, who matters so so so so much to me, (you've probably caught onto that, right?) and it was so lovely. I felt like we talked for less than an hour; I think it was actually three. Anyway, we babbled on and talked about recovery, and I racked my brain for the actual methods I've used to help myself progress and always felt like I didn't quite know them (there is no secret formula, blast it! ...it reminds me of Heather, who asked me with such sincere vulnerability how I had managed to get as far along with my eating disorder as I had - just before discharge - and how I kept just babbling because there wasn't any one key. It's not an issue of will power. It's understanding the consequences of taking care of yourself or of using your eating disorder, learning ways to counter your eating disorder, and learning ways to access you strength. I honestly try to put everything I know at nourish. Beyond that, I can only call it miraculous... After which, I feel compelled to say, "even a miracle needs a hand"^ because it may be miraculous, but I have worked damn hard to help the miracle along. Whoo!)
Anyway, I talked to Sara. I called her around eight, expecting not to get her, (I don't know why, other than I hadn't managed to catch her the other times I called), but she answered, and we had a really wonderful conversation. It's always such a relief to talk with her because the strength in her voice, the life in her voice, makes the struggles I know she's facing less terrifying. I know that they're terrifying, and I know they are overwhelming, but when I talk with her, I can hear the health and the person, and I know that, as hard as she's having to fight, her eating disorder is having to fight hard, too. As hard as her illness is on her, she's a tough girlwoman to beat, and I'm so grateful for that. I'm so grateful to her for not giving up, and for staying connected with me, and for wanting to see me even though I'm scared about visiting (which does not mean, at all, that I don't want to)...just for everything. And no my fears are not entirely relieved now, and I'm not going to feel totally better about this, but I do know that she's in a better space than she was a few days ago, and I know that she's making some huge steps, and I know that she's not giving in. That knowledge reassures me. It allows me to hope less desperately. Godd, it's good to have a Sara.
So, of course, I want to tell the doctor! And he's not around, damnit, and you know by Friday I'll be all crabby and wanting to detail the dramas of the week, tell him all my tragic stories, and where will this news go? It will find its way in, I'm sure. He knows how important it is to me that Sara be ok, and he knows how terrified I've been lately. And it's another happy instance of "I called the girl!" like with Chas. Now, if we could just move up to "I saw the girl!" I'd really be cruising. Actually, "I talked to the girl" on a regular basis would be a good place to start. Perhaps branching out eventually into, "I called the boy." Ooh. Radical thinking, that.
Speaking of boys and girls, I think I'm getting really scared of a girl-meets-girl sexuality, mostly because I'm convinced that's the one everyone thinks is real, and I'm terrified of a real orientation. It's making things rather interesting (read complicated), seeing as I was already entirely terrified of being heterosexual, (sexual to begin with) but definitely more scared of guys, and now girls are scooting right on up in the horror register so that as much as I adore so many of them, I don't doubt that I'll soon be equally afraid of the possibilities. (Not to say that those two rather rigid categories are the only possibilities, but sometimes when you're first broaching a subject, it helps to pretend things are slightly more black and white than they actually are.) But I'm not supposed to be thinking about this. I gave it to the doctor, who's making sure it's gently handled and incubating. I'm not expected to go into it so long as I'm terrified, which seems odd. Won't I always be terrified? And doesn't the presence of this topic again and again - in my writing, in the music I listen to and the books I read, in the characters I relate to, so on and so forth - propose on some level that it's time it be talked about? Not that I want to rush it. I don't. Maybe I just need to back off and recognize the fact that introducing the subject is a big step. I mean, he was saying the actual words: sexuality, orientation, sex, gay, straight, and so forth. I was still going more for the "er...what we talked about...on Monday" variety, but nevertheless, we talked about it. I know I've written a bit, and had a couple IM conversations, but I don't think I've ever talked about it in person. I definitely haven't with anyone I didn't meet on-line. Excluding Jenna, with whom I always talked very generally, about emotional - rather than physical - intimacy. That's another one of those words. In.Ti.Ma.Cy. I hate it. It's such a pretty word when it means close, and that it gets all distorted by context and scares the crap out of me. If only people would quit using it as a cover-word for sex. Or perhaps - if only I could get past my fear about the topic. (I haven't. Yet. I might.)
So, anyway. First day without the doctor was a success. I went to a movie with my mom, lazed around quite a bit (good for a Saturday, I think), called Sara - all of which led to some very good things. Tomorrow, I'd like to return to my writing practice (which I've been neglecting a little lately) and maybe read some. I haven't been reading so much the past few days, I think because I was far too overwhelmed. I was fully saturated, and did not need to hear, read, see, or know anything else. I feel like some of it has drained down now, the levels are closer to normal, and I'm hungry for knowledge and novelty (once again.) I might also end up doing something with Mom and a woman who shares my name. They're going out tomorrow, and, seeing as this other Mary is almost as cool as me (oh, the joy of fake egotism), I might tag along. Especially if they decide to go to the zoo. Maybe even if they decide to go to the botanical gardens.
Oh! And I was in a mall today (that's where we caught the movie) - and afterward, I wandered around for maybe five minutes with my mom before saying that I wasn't really into mall-wandering and proposing we do something else. (Which ended up being to coming back here. My as-needed anxiety meds - which I actually remembered to take for once - were wearing off.) And on the way we saw this hugely advertised major sale at one of the clothes stores, and I started to look in like it was important that I check to see if this was something I wanted to more thoroughly examine, and then I thought of the clothes in my closet, and how I didn't really need any new clothes (remember that shopping is not something I enjoy, so this isn't will power or deprivation on my part, it's just progress) and I walked right on by. The stupid mall with all its stupid media didn't get to me this time. I love this. I should have quit watching (so much) television ages ago. And taping shows so as to skip the commercials. It's doing wonders. Although, I think it's much easier to do here than it would have been in D!@#$%^, where the alternative to watching television was watching the pond scum slowly devour the lake. Good times.
We came 'home' tonight, and I climbed the stairs to the third floor (the stairs being the only thing I don't like about living on the third floor), after coming up with a 'cause' (something I've been doing since the autism walk..."climbing the stairs for autism research"..."climbing the stairs for [insert cause here]..."), and when we reached the balcony, I looked out over the oh-so-autumnish tree and blanket of fallen leaves at all the lights and I said, "We live in the city! We live in the city!" in a happy, happy voice.
So. We know there is at least one part of my life that makes me happy. My Thoreau period has "so totally" come to a close. (I think I'd like to be Luna Lovegood for awhile now, if no one objects. I mean, at the same time I'm being Mary Brave.) And I saw so many Wisconsin license plates! And Beth Ann tried to call me and left a really sweet message! And, and, and! Do you see what the doctor is missing out on? He's going to be so sad when he finds out. Maybe I'll still do a quick summary. "Previously, on Mary's Life..."
Hmm. Remind me to think of a better name for my tv show.
chord <--who is surprised by her own jolly good mood
^the cartoon The Night Before Christmas - "you hope, and I'll hurry/ you pray and I'll plan/ we'll do what's necessary cos/ even a miracle needs a hand..."
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