9:45 p.m. - 01/27/03
even if it takes my whole life...
I've been lazing around on-line for nearly an hour, meaning to journal and not journaling. I think right now there are too many thoughts in my head and tones in my heart to make sense of here. If I could discern enough to know which I need to look at first, I'd start, but in the meantime, I just sleep a lot and stretch my shoulders to keep the stress from piling up. Something really amazing happened today, as tends to occur in this world where people love me. I am going to trust the connection I have now that I'm not living at Rogers as much as I trusted it there. Someday. In the meantime, I cry easily and feel confused a lot. In the meantime I crave foods and work on permitting myself to eat them. I crave love, too, so I work to permit that as well.
Tonight, of all nights, with the relationality issue reeling, and feeling too shut down to understand any of it- tonight, exhausted from sleeplessness and school and stressing- I found an e-mail in my inbox from someone called Stacy. Stacy who gave me my first ticket to this world, who still smiles when they sing that song in Charlie and The Chocolate Factory. Who still knows me, and thinks of me, and feels grateful for/ impressed by my progress. I'm so going to cry writing this.
At first it was jubilance. Absolute ecstasy. Forget the rest of the world; one person from Red-staff wrote back, and that's all I need. One link to it. Sure, I'll take them all, but hell, one link- and my god, Stacy- well...wow. That means something. I ran onto IM to tell Britt and then ran back off to do something I can't even remember now. At that point the message had no message; her computer is possessed, but I knew from her address who it was. And sure enough, a few hours later a real message appeared, and I stared it down and felt jubilant again. I haven't taken that long to open a mail since the early-atoms days when I would hear from Chas or Mandy or someone equally like nourishment. It was only a few minutes ago that the joy turned to obsessiveness, to worry. That I realized she might have used the mail to say that she can't really stay in touch with me, sorry, and I would crash and burn and now, who would I talk to when that happens? So, I opened the page to post on sf, turned on IM, and clicked to open the mail. And of course she doesn't say any of those silly things that girls with abandonment issues and anxiety disorders worry always will be said. She says things like air and holding and soft fur. What can I say in response to that? What can I say except I feel like the world turned around again, came back to where it's supposed to be? And it's not exactly her who has that power (though she's amazing; I'm working on not putting people on pedestals, somewhat)...it's just the hope. The hope that people can connect to me, can want me in their lives, can even love this little mess of Maryness. It's just so new and so beautiful. It's nurturing.
Now I need to know whether my desire to respond and say, "yeah, it's great- but really my life is crap" has to do with wanting to be honest about all the points of life and not just the optimism-feeding ones, or to secure that she will care about me because I'm struggling. Fuck the latter, if I do say so myself. She obviously would like this relationship to happen based solely on who Mary is. She obviously can handle my shit, or she wouldn't agree. She obviously gets enough shit during her workday and doesn't need an extra load just for kicks. And, wow, Katia also just wrote me, and maybe I will write Chelsea after all, and suddenly it's not about the proportion of people who respond versus people who don't. It's just about the fact that I have a clear-cut right to hope. A reason. Evidence.
I am lovable. I am.
Which means that I need to calm down and just let some other things be. Someone asked me for "prayers" today, and in trying to construct a response, I wondered about the extent to which my prayers are just another attempt to control. I know sometimes it is about surrender, but I wonder if I don't sometimes pray to convince myself I've done something so I don't have to accept the helplessness. I don't think it's entirely true (because I do believe that thoughts like those have power and that a force, which I personify somewhat, is listening- is love)...but I still wondered. I've been pretty desperate for control lately. I think that's a bigger issue (for the moment) than what I'm afraid of in my relation-/sexuality: I'm controlling it by keeping it suffocated. I'm making myself feel safe by not having the drive, the need- by not even letting myself question if I have the need. And that's not cool. That's anorexia. That's fucking anorexia in a different scheme. Control is big. I have far more s/i and ed urges than normal, and it's all about wanting to keep myself secure. I don't feel like enough just now. I feel like I'm desperately missing a main component of my sanity (about yay tall with dark hair and bright heart- have you seen him?), and I'm scared to do the everydayness as me-just-me. I'm scared of what I do without him all the time because now if it becomes too much, I can't call. Because I can't mention what I'm struggling with. But he told me to write him, and I will. I will.
I already did once, actually; I saved the draft. I'll do it again. Dear Doc, if you ever go on vacation again I will...begrudgingly understand that you deserve so much more than two weeks off. But come on! Did it have to be right now! Oh, and by the way *Stacy* wrote me, and life rocks, except it sucks, and isn't it funny how a letter from an angel (so much for pedestals) makes hell more bearable? Hope you're relaxed because damn I'm going to be trouble when you get back. Though I'm putting my best efforts into staying sane. Wish you were here, etc.
So. I'm out of it. What do I need to do? I need to do actual schoolwork tomorrow. I can study for my psych test, or my soc test, or do physics. I can do any combination of those things that does not make me feel like my head will explode or like I'm a lazy clod. I need to keep in mind that my Diversity teacher being excited about having me is reason to be excited myself (not reason to freak out and try and be perfect and smart and completely lose track of who I am. No. Not that at all.) I need to listen to good e-mail and revel in relief post-response to the risk. I need to check in with myself and keep track of the people I care about (write some letters, damnit! if not tomorrow soon.) Mostly, I need to take the day as it comes and do the best that I can with it. Let enough be enough.
I'm going to figure this shit out. I am.
chord
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