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7:00 p.m. - 01/03/02
-is there someone who can - take me in.?. -rainer maria
I'm listening to Rainer Maria for the first time in too long...there's something so beautifully comfortable about "Rise." It makes me remember why I originally used it for my sn, before the meaning got all twisted by the disorder (along with every other aspect of my life.) I've had a seriously non-productive day, prompted by the fact that my brain is relative mush at the moment. (As evidenced by the fact that I will proceed to write about the mundane instances that made up my day, rather than any groundbreaking, or mildly entertaining thoughts I might have had.) I woke up around three this morning and proceeded to twitch for about half-an-hour, before finally giving up and getting out of bed. John didn't come home last night, so I had a little more leniency with turning the lights on, which was nice. It sucks to be up at that hour of the morning (when you're tired and have no one to talk to), and being able to brighten up the scene a bit is a little helpful.

So I drank some juice, freaked out slightly that I might binge, the way I always freak out when it's three in the morning and I'm standing in the kitchen, then realized that I'm sick, I have a sore throat, and there's nothing abnormal or unhealthy about drinking juice when you have a sore throat and that makes it feel better. Anyway, I proceeded to sit down with my juice and watch, of all things, The South Park Movie, which was mildly entertaining and mildly disturbing (I'd seen it before)...around 4, some circuit-breaker alarm went off, eventually waking up my parents, who spent about 1/2 hour figuring out how to turn it off. And of course, my mom was all sweet, and I felt completely confused and ungrateful, and started to think that maybe last night had been my fear and my fever and my sleeplessness talking...I started to think that maybe it wasn't so bad...

Except I still felt like my veins were housing shame instead of life. I still felt like my tongue was a bomb lit by my wrong words. Blown, beaten, bruised, et cetera. Confused.

Eventually, they went to bed, and later, I followed the example, and tried to tango with the Sandman once again. I did fall asleep after awhile, and was pleased to find that I had several nightmares, which has actually become a positive thing the past few days, as I rarely fall asleep long enough, deeply enough to dream. Unfortunately, all the dreams are me being attacked, me weighing myself, et cetera, but at least I'm dreaming. I woke up/ Mom woke me up around 9:30, and I went off to the Harriet appointment for which I had such big, impossible plans.

I don't know what to say about it. I spent pretty much the entire hour in tears, as I did at the last appointment, and as I will probably do at the next appointment, which, for reasons too silly to explain, happens to be tomorrow.

(This CD is *far* too relevant: "There's so little way to help you/ and I only have two arms/ with needles drawing out my wishes/ centrifuge them back to you..." this band is liquid dreaming.)

So yes, I spent the entire appointment crying...blubbering, actually, is more accurate simply because the crying mixed with mumbling, and that's the basic formula for blubbering as I understand it. (With a pinch of self-pity and imitation-whining thrown in for flavor.) I felt (feel) completely lost, overwhelmed, confused...at one point she asked me if I was willing to die for what goes on at my house, and I started bawling, because I don't want to die, and I don't believe I have any control over it. I believe that if I feel, (eat), I'll die, and if I purge, I'll die, and I feel like I *should* be gone because Tracy's gone and that makes far less sense, but I don't want to die. I really don't. I don't know how to live, but I don't want all of this to win. I want to be braver than I am. I want to be brave enough to do what I don't know to do.

The credo of choice these days is "don't take counsel of your fears" - unfortunately, fear seems to be the only instinct available currently. I'm terrified to stay here and continue losing ground; I'm terrified to leave and destroy my family, be disowned, lie, be an ingrate, be alone, be unloved, be everything I've always been scared I am. ("It's not that you think you're not good enough; it's that you think you're *too bad.*" Well, what if I am?)

All I want anymore is to be safe. I want to be in a place where I don't have to work to breathe, where I'm treated like my better self, where I don't have to be ashamed to be getting better, and where I know I won't wake up to emptiness. I want to be safe, and I don't know how to be safe. That's why I didn't run away- because I don't just want to get out, I want to get *in* to something better, and ever since Tracy [] I believe I only have the power to make things worse. I feel like I can only end up in more pain...

("And I'm certain if I drive into those trees/ it'll make less of a mess/ than you've made of me..." This is the type of music you have to call a record, just because it sounds higher quality to say it could stand among the classics...)

And logically, I mean, who could take me in? An emotionally unstable, recovering bulimarexic, in need of transportation some five days a week? Who other than the obligated would be inclined to pick up *that* want ad? Harriet said that something would have to happen, I'd have to get angry perhaps, angry enough to leave. And I wanted so much to tell her that I *did* get that angry; I do get that angry...but then I get so scared. Yesterday, I was convinced I wouldn't put up with one more day of this, but I *can't be alone.* I can't be unwanted. I can't fulfill my own self-perception. It will destroy me.

I want to take care of myself, but I don't know how to determine a solution. Meanwhile, I tell John I nearly ran away because Mom and Dad are crazy, and he just shakes his head and tells me to ignore them. Feel whatever I want to feel in spite of them.

But, I can't...I can't do this- I can't die trying.

And somehow I still have girls saying this sort of thing to me - "I'm glad you decided to stick around, Mer. I'd be lost without you. Honestly. Darling. You make me smile. I'm glad you're here for the long haul. I'm glad you're fighting the good fight. I love you, dollface. I'd hate to see you so alone. *snuggles you*"

I lied today. I said I don't believe I can go back to RED, which is true, I don't think it will ever happen, but that doesn't keep me from pretending it will. It doesn't keep me from pretending that any day now the one place I ever got to feel that safety I'm craving so desperately now, will pick me up again and cradle me back into my own.

I'm eating again.

chord

 

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