6:50 p.m. - 05/08/02
topic tap-dance.
If I knew where I have been, I'd tell you. Maybe you would offer directions back, and I could find a shortcut home without having to rehash the past few days. Let's put it this way: I don't know what to say. I feel fine, then angry, then sick, then dizzy, then depressed, then tired, then hopeless, then angry again...
It might all be psychosomatic, but I'm really, really hoping it's the new med (Wellbutrin, as of Saturday.) Because I seriously don't want to be on this, and if it's screwing me up, I won't have to...
Issue 1: I feel like a druggie. I now take five different meds. Wellbutrin, Effexor, Buspar, and two as-needed anxiety meds with long names I don't remember. Granted, he's takin me off the Buspar as soon as it's evident what effect the Wellbutrin is having, and granted he *isn't* a crazy med-popper-doctor and I *do* trust him, but seriously five meds is ridiculous. I don't want to feel like there's five meds' worth of things to fix in me. I know there's probably another perspective on this...but...I don't really care.
2.) I have no attention span. I feel bored, anxious, or tired. I can't concentrate on anything. I always feel like I should be doing something more than what I'm doing, and it's hard to find things that you can do productively while doing three other productive things.
3.) Dr. R and I talked on Saturday about how I have two attention spans. It's an idea that came to me when my dad was diagnosed with ADD; I got completely scared that I had it, too, considering that I have basically every issue my dad has. So I observed myself, and I realized, that I don't really have a *problem* focusing, so long as I'm doing two things that interest me. As long as I'm doodling in an interesting class, I'm fine. Stop doodling, and I'll instantly start daydreaming. Or if the class is boring, I'll have to say, daydream and doodle. But it doesn't always have to be daydreaming, and if there are more than two things of interest to focus on, I feel torn and overwhelmed and crazed. Yes. But now...I can't do anything. My head's just whirring around at high speeds and everything sets me off into fury...which usually disipates into a very cleansing cry-break. Dear...
3.) I like my new bike, but the chain fell off, and since it's not a normal bike, my dad can't fix it. But it's totally vintage, and I like it. It's rusty (from real rust) and gold, and the brand name is Pacemaker. Which means I have a Pacemaker, which is really funny, and a little scary, but mostly funny. I'm missing the plains (biking here is *work*), but it's enjoyable all the same...Must fix chain.
4.) The only annoying thing about biking is I feel like I'm going to die every time I go out to ride. This agoraphobia stuff is dumb enough when it's fear of things I've never done, but being afraid of something I've been fearless about since, say, seven years old is really uncool.
5.) But the other day, when I ventured out despite my fear, I met a turtle on the road, and I carried it to the side so it could be safe. I scared it, I guess, because it pulled it's head in as I knelt down, but I was just trying to be helpful. Poor turtle. For a moment, I thought about how nice it would be to bring home the turtle and keep him as a pet...but...my feeling about imprisoning wild animals, not to mention my feelings about aquarium goo, kept me riding...
6.) A few days ago when I was able to write (I've been working on zine articles, mostly), I started looking for places to submit to...contests, magazines. I realized a trend in my decisions: I tend to look at progressive magazines and think of ways to further challenge them. Like: you're really cool, but here's something you're not saying yet. Admittedly out-on-a-limb topics...which is kind of nervewracking. I don't think I could ever be one of those people who bakes all the cookies and smiles all the right smiles and keeps everything low so as not to make waves, and then slowly, from the inside, starts to change things. I just want to smack them from the beginning: Here's the deal. Here's who I am. Well?
7.) My brother's college graduation is on Saturday. I was planning to go, until I realized that everyone else was planning for me not to. I mean, this is the only sibling college commencement I'll ever have the chance to attend (seeing as Sarah graduated early and Dale and John just skipped it all together), and I'd really like to support Joe in a sisterly way, since I kind of screwed that up the past few years. His big party is to be at a restuarant with all his college friends (and my parents), though, and everyone just started telling me they understood it wasn't my cup of tea, and that I didn't have to come, and how Joe just wanted me to make sure my parent's attire was appropriate before they left...I felt really bizarre. I want to be a decent sister, and I want to go to his commencement. (Odd, considering how much their high school commencements sucked.) But at the same time, I understand their concern, and it *would* be hard for me...I wouldn't mind the challenge except that I might need help if it's challenging, and I'm not putting Joe through that. Saturday is completely his day; I'm not infringing on it with my struggle...
He's just had to deal with it too often. If I'm at home, I won't have to worry about drawing too much attention away from him or doing something upsetting. So...I'll just have a self-piteous Saturday, check my parents' clothes, and give them the card I made with Yogi, Smokey, and the Care Bears that reads "To My Brother, Joe, who truly is smarter than the average bear." He was always big on bears...
I wish he'd known throughout school how smart he was. I wish I'd known. I hate how brainwashed I was about people...I'm learning that supposedly "progressive" or "liberal" people are harder to catch in their prejudices, but they have them just as much. I was raised to mistrust Republicans, Fundamentalists (by my parents) and Less Than Superior Students (by my teachers.) And I'm only beginning to really feel aware of that...which I hate. It's one thing to conciously decide not to like a group of people; it's dumb, but at least it's conscious. It's another to have it fed to you from birth.
To my credit, now that I've met Republicans and Baptists and such that are really fabulous people, I no longer hold the prejudice. But I hate that it always takes me meeting someone to understand how naive I really am. It was the same thing with trans issues, and I *still* feel like a dunce when it comes to that stuff...Grr.
Two things Dr. R said Saturday that I want to remember:
1.) Fear can be a masked wish. The things that really scare me are the things I really want, but am afraid to. For instance: to have distance from my parents, to be close to people, to go to college. These things scare me because I'm afraid of what will happen if I get them.
2.) We were talking about the different types of conversations I have with my respective parents: Dad and I are basically more lighthearted; Mom and I are more analytical. I told him that some "intelligent" conversation *might* rise in a conversation with my dad, but it would probably be in the form of a joke- for instance, an ironic play on words. With my mom, it's a constant battle against insecurity. I didn't think I really had to spell it out for him. I mean, my mom is brilliant and articulate and insightful...After I said that, he just turned to me and said, "You don't see yourself that way?" My feelings (an extreme joy that wanted to throw its arms around his neck and say thank yous for the rest of the hour, and a complete shame that instantly took over at the idea someone could even suggest I was intelligent) almost instantly negated each other, and I just shook my head. But it really was a beautiful thing for him to say.
If I could chain together all the kind words I've received, it'd be better than a candy necklace; it would...
We also talked some more about the honors program, and I was once again astonished to believe that no one realizes how cutthroat it is. I'm starting to feel the need to survey people when I begin writing/researching the area because I wonder how universal it is. Is my program so exceptional as the shock of these 'adults' implies?
I hate my old school. Right now I really hate it. I'm angry at the way they betrayed me. To lead me on for fourteen years that the only way to succeed was to follow this strict path of obedience and achievement, to promise me joy so long as I followed their plan for me, only to abandon me when I fell apart under the stress. My favorite part is that they blamed it on me: I transgressed. I didn't follow the path. Had I done so, I would have received everything they promised. Not only was my life ruined, but it was ruined because of me.
And by the way, we don't want you to darken the doorways of the honors classes anymore. I mean, shit...this is sickening.
Yeah, that's enough. This entry is not intended as a promise that I'm writing regularly again. I suck lately...
chord
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