3:10 p.m. - 06/13/02
it just may be a lunatic you're looking for...
i might rather by lying down than sitting (mostly) up to write this. i might rather be curled in blankets, crying (happy?) tears. lately, i'm coming into myself so quickly i can barely keep up with my own evolution. phrases in my letters catch hold of intrigue and i'm pleased with what i have to say. i'm pleased with the way that i'm learning to think about things, and even though, amid all this growth and positivity, my resistent head is collapsing on itself more often, i'm still hanging in there. 22 hrs of beauty and two of violent depression isn't the worst of ratios. could i end up happy after all? could i hold onto happiness long enough to taste it?
i feel like i'm exhaling. even though i know that eventually things will be difficult (more than they are now) and i will have to retreat back into myself, i'm proud of the parts of me that have dripped out recently. i'm proud of this unfolding of my mind.
as tired and often distracted as i am, i'm finding ways to spend my time. i read when my parents are too busy or too self-absorbed to speak with me. i curl up in my room and feel happy with my book. i write letters to people i may later decide i shouldn't be in touch with. i reach out to people i fear might reject me. i make phone calls when my throat is dry and my heart is a palpitating. i keep promises i make to myself. i call my parents on inappropriate behavior. i call *my mom* on inappropriate behavior. and i do it in a calm way that she responds to with equal calm. i roll my eyes like a teenager and dr. r says, "now is a good time to roll your eyes." i allow occasional impulsivity in myself. i no longer feel cursed by the idea that these illnesses may never leave me. i'm developing a theory that says, "if i'm going to live with this the rest of my life, I'm going to LIVE with this."
occasionally, i'm optimistic. i balance my bad moments with the separate thoughts of, "this really will taper off eventually" and "this is the way my head works sometimes, so let's suck it up and continue as I otherwise would"...i'm incredibly lonely, a little neglected, and have had several strong hurt-self urges lately, but in some ways these feelings of separatness and temptation have kept me on track. i don't have the same beautiful support that i have had (or will have) in my life and because of this, i don't allow myself the same dependency on other people, while still reaching out when necessary. it's important to me that my recovery be seen as *my* recovery, and lately i've been living up to that wish. i don't run to red, or dr. r, or this journal, or friends at every hint of trigger. i don't allow myself to be overwhelmed by the independent approach, but i occasionally get through things on my own. i owe a lot of that to harriet. god bless how crazy she was.
some updates:
-i've decided to hold off (*very* temporarily) on the volunteering-front while i figure out what is medically going on and decide if where i want to try working. the woman i talked to at mpc was kind enough to me, but seemed slightly condescending when she discussed the patients, and i haven't decided yet if i want to deal with that. and then, i might rather work with people a little younger than me, then people twice my age. then again, i might like to work at mpc more than anything in the known world. ok, the known state. so, we'll see. i need to call/e-mail her to let her know what's going on, and why i have to hold off for a (LITTLE) while. this should be fine because she's going to be on vacation from tuesday until the 27th anyway. yeay.
-went to the medical doctor today and they of course instantly assumed i had diabetes. yeay for people all jumping to the same conclusions; boo on bad illnesses involving needles. in actuality, though, no one knows for sure. and when they took my blood sugar, it was on the low end of normal, so no one is sure what to do. i have to go get labs taken, probably tomorrow; they want to check my blood, my electrolytes, my thyroid, et cetera. and then they might check my liver and my kidneys and all this other shit. i doubt it's any of those latter ideas because i don't have any stomach *pain* and when she pushed on my stomach it didn't hurt. it's nausea, and i know on some level it's either thyroid or blood-sugar related. the truth is, i'm in a decent place with it all today. mostly because when she took my blood sugar, i was like, "this really doesn't hurt at all. i could do this to myself if i need to."
which i guess i knew already, but it was nice to feel it first hand. my finger barely even bruised (i bruise *really* easily) and it didn't hurt very long afterward. anyway, it hurts a lot less than days of migraines/nausea. i just hope that if it *is* blood sugar related, i can still have *some* sugar. fruit and candy. please. oh, and, i hope i don't have to alter my meal plan too much or focus on it obsessively. that would suck.
i think i saw my weight. i didn't realize it was on this paper the nurse practitioner was writing on, and i caught sight of a number...and...i haven't been able to forget it. it's really difficult, but i guess i'll get over it. i'm going to fucking smash a scale to pieces one of these days. for a girl so fond of lists and order, i really do hate numbers in regard to me. 'my worth is not weighed in pounds' - yeay, well, my confidence is not exactly rock-steady, ok?
anyway. the good news is, i am equally unable to erase affirmations like these from my mind:
[in regard to some poems i sent out...]
"I couldn't wait to read your poetry. So I opened it on our trip home from Paul's father's. Mary you are brilliant. I'm not just saying that. In my (unschooled) opinion you stand shoulder to shoulder with the very best.
I ached and wept reading [the poem about sexual abuse]. [too personal to share here] Thank you so much for sharing your poems and your life with us. Love...Laura and Paul"
+
"Atomgirl would have fitted into a novel; Chordchild could write one."
that'll help any day.
love to you and yours
chord
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