7:00 p.m. - 05/19/02
the skyline is two gazes long...
Wow. Things look so different these days; even my fairy will not raise her eyes to mine. I've been going through Atomgirl entries off and on the past few days, in an attempt to have them all saved, and to keep myself busy, and I can't believe some of it. I can't believe where I was, and I can't believe I've come so far out of it. I'm up to entry 500, which is right where I started seeing Tammy and just before homebound began, and I'm really relieved for myself that help is coming. I wonder what I would have done if that had been someone else's journal. What could I have done? Part of me wants to take it down, but I haven't decided yet. I'm afraid it does more bad than good staying there. It hasn't been all that triggering for me (it's actually helped some) but my thought processes are so bare. I don't want to be the girl who tells someone that is ok. I wish I could convince everyone to get help. Go to Rogers. It's a few months out of your life, and it can completely alter the course of it. You can give it up slowly, as you're ready, with support. You don't have to be alone with your disorder.
I wish I could have heard those words, but I guess I did. Eventually. And they came at a time when I could act on them, which I'm still grateful for...
Things are rough, currently. I feel really sick today, and food (the past few days) has been insanely difficult. I'm really not sure why; I suppose things are just difficult in general (i.e. emotionally) and so food has gotten harder. It's not that I'm not eating; I'm just having a harder time doing so. Yesterday, I opened the fridge to find lunch, and I started to cry. That quickly. It's scary; I don't know what to do. I'm eating, and I'm hanging in there, which I guess is all I *can* do, but it still is scary. I want to go back lately; I want to go back to my disorder. I remind myself that what I want, what feels like a nice alternative right now, is the beginning, and where I will end up is not a place I want to be again. The beginning inevitably leads back to where I was at, and I'm not doing that. Plus, I don't think I'm accurately remembering how awful it was. I think what I want is what the eating disorder *said* it would be but never really was. And I guess I'm looking for a way to check-out temporarily, and shutting off my brain via lack of nutrition sounds like a viable option. The emotions are hard, the memories are hard, the realties are hard, and the daydreams are hard. I am being beaten by past, present, and future, and that's a hard place to live.
I'm doing what I can. I use the Dr. R trick of focusing on something sensate in the moment (a feel, a smell) and that has helped a little. I still have major SI urges and a hard time eating, but I haven't done anything, so something must be right. Some moments I even feel ok. I do.
I'm noticing changes in my feeling about Jenna. Well, not about Jenna herself, but about what has apparently happened in that relationship. I'm dealing with a lot of the pain in ways that Jenna dealt with pain, oddly enough...doing a lot of physical things outside that I normally don't do. That could just be the fact that the sun has come out after weeks of major downpours, but I think it's more. I think somewhere in me I want to show her what she missed. No. I want to show myself that she missed something. I want to say in my heart that I would have been good for her.
I'm still not sure if this is a good thing, but it feels good enough to spend an hour slamming balls against the house or trying to successfully volley a Wonderball against the world's most bizarrely constructed place of residence. Mostly, it's just nice to have a place I can go and simultaneously do something physically "intense" (in the relative terms of my sedentary existence) while talking to myself. I seriously think talking to onself is a form of sanity, at least for introverts. I don't know how I would survive if I couldn't seek my inner counsel in between appointments.
Speaking of, my parents had an appt. with the doc last night, and apparently my dad had a really hard time. I'm not sure what they talked about, but I know that my dad realized they do still need to be going weekly(he was unsure of this earlier in the week) and that he started crying at some point in the appointment, which is a hugely big deal. My dad's more emotional than most, meaning he isn't a stoic stereotype by any means, but it's been a long time since I've seen him cry. The last time I remember was that night he begged me not to die.
You can see why I don't really want to remember much of anything these days.
I'm doing a little better missing RED. Well, no, I'm not actually, but the grief has spread out a little more. In case you haven't noticed, I tend to well all my emotions into a single person. For instance, I'll go through phases where I constantly talk about how much I love so-and-so, and then a week later, it'll be someone else. It isn't a shift in my affections, but a shift in where I'm emphasizing them. It's too difficult for me to feel all that love (or hatred or pain) at the same time, so I condense it into one person. I have a feeling that especially initially, Tracy wasn't the only person I grieved after I heard. Now thoughts of her are pretty much *just* thoughts of her, which I think is why it's gotten so hard again. It's like all of the distraction has lifted and suddenly I'm really seeing this reality that she is gone.
Again. But it isn't any easier, the second, forth, fifth, millionth time...
Anyway, I had this obsession about talking to Brea, and even though I never did get to speak with her, I did manage to hear her voice a few times when she couldn't talk more than a moment. So I feel ok, like I still have this connection to her, and my affection is spreading to people like Steph and Stacy and Sara. I wish I could call without feeling like it would overwhelm any headway I've made in avoiding the issue. I can't deal with the pain right now, so I'm not dealing with the pain, and it's hard not to face it when the distance is embodied by a phone receiver and finally, a dial tone.
There is absolutely no way to know. Will they still work there in November? Will I be able to get in touch with everyone to give contact infor? Who, if anyone, will stay in touch? Will the relationships falter outside of the professional status? How will I balance needing them professionally, if for instance I still call RED in crises, if we're working to be "friends"?
(You can see why I don't want to think about the future either. What's that Peanuts line: "You're the only person I know who can take a wonderful thing like Christmas and turn it into a problem." Yeah, well, it's my gift.)
Actually, I'm doing better calling on people here in times of need. Mostly Dr. R, seeing as he's who I see the most of, but the last few times things have been really bad he's the one who's intervened. That might have to do with the fact that RED *is* a lot of my pain or the fact that I don't want to 'disappoint' them by struggling. (As if they ever judged me for the struggle.) Or it might just be that I truly am trying to have at least one itty-bitty root here. I may not have any concept of having moved (in six months of dreaming, I've never once seen this house behind my eyelids) but I am trying to take care of myself with people somewhat close by...speaking of, I need to get in touch with Shawn. I never told him about losing his e-mail, so he doesn't even know why I haven't written. Grargh. That's bad. We could be good for each other, and I wish we had been during his initial time home.
But you know, I have enough of a headache without focusing on what could have, should have, might have been. Or was. For now, distraction is the only method that gives me any peace. I have an appt. Wednesday; maybe that will help. We'll see.
Last night I had a dream about African leaders, Baseball players, and the ending theme from Joseph and The Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. In some fashion I can't even guess, it surpassed being bizarre and achieved nightmare status. I wonder if there's a record for the most nightmares. They should give out an award or something.
Or help. Help would be good.
All right, I'm off to find some way to finish today's meals. Only one more left. I remember, vaguely...one day at a time, no- one meal at a time, no- one bite at a time. Or half-a-bite. Or breath. Sooner or later, it's done.
chord
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