9:05 p.m. - 08/13/03
`can you tell me if I'm near to anywhere but here? []>
I want to know the biological link between migraine and depression. I refuse to believe that a simple migraine can make everything else seem so shitty. I want answers, but more importantly I want solutions, and I want them now. No more not liking myself. No more living in complete isolation. No more phobias, no more depression, no more anxiety, no more eating disorder, no more any of it. With a side of world peace. Thank you.
I didn't have a bad day. I mean, sure, I had abuse dreams last night (girls, my age, not good), and slept weirdly, woke up and spent most of the day alone. I was whacked out like a student at the beginning of a semester, wanting to read at least three books at once (but really about sixteen) and having all sorts of creative thoughts without being able to apply any of them. I didn't really do justice to the process of writing reeducation I'm undergoing just now, when I mentioned it the other day, but I don't really feel like doing it justice right now, either, so I suppose it must wait. Sufficeth to say that I have all sorts of ideas for what I want to say and what boundaries I want to push - at nourish, at caged, at chord, in plays, in stories, in poems - and I'm honestly *excited* by it (or at least, I was 20 minutes ago, when my brain didn't feel like a steel plate trying to wrinkle.) And a few hours ago, I did finally manage to push out some work on a new play. It's a bit of a challenge for me because even though I've done plays with more than two characters before, (and this one has three) I rarely allow more than two of them to talk with each other at once. I'm really trying to keep all three characters engaged, and it's not my normal pattern so it's difficult. That's similar to the work I'm doing with my poetry; I'm reading poets whose work moves me, but isn't the spoken-word-lyric I've been writing for a few years now. And I want to work whatever intrigues me in that into my own poems, which means writing some really shitty stuff for awhile...something I find difficult. But then, if I can give myself the freedom to screw up, it could be fun. New worlds, new ways to see them, new ways to relate them.
I swear, a few hours ago, I felt enthusiastic.
The doctor said Monday that we'd had a really significant session; planning (for real, to start next week) to work against the phobias is a big deal. Maybe I'm depressed so as not to notice how terrified I am. I'm not really thinking about that. I'm thinking about the fact that 28 years ago today, my parents got married. That's another perfectly good reason to be depressed, considering that two people who've decided not to be married anymore really should not continue to have anniversaries. Especially when, if the legal world moved more quickly, they would no longer be married...
Or how about the fact that I miss Rogers? That's always a steady one to go back to - I haven't made my call yet, and the days I have left before breaking my promise are numbered. I'm in a bad mood right now, though, so it's hard to imagine calling. I don't want to call them in a bad mood. I haven't done so in a long, long time; therefore it's hard to imagine. I feel not good, so it's hard to remember feeling better. State-dependent memory. The same reason Dr. R offered as a possible explanation for my phobias. I need to start doing these outing/exercise/challenge-type-things that aren't particularly fun (so they don't compete with the past) and aren't so miserable they cause me to panic (so that my anxiety can modify into anticipation as my memory collects and begins to expect good experiences.) It's a darling theory that reads nicely in a textbook, but honestly folks, is it what you want to do with the next few months of your life?
Of course, it won't be the only thing I do. Especially if the house sells. We're being led to believe that tomorrow we will have two offers to peruse, in terms of selling. People have been absolutely nuts (one couple saw it twice, and the second time we came home to a locked garage door, but they swore they didn't go anywhere near it, and since we don't have a key, we had to get a locksmith, and we had to do it right away because they wanted to see it a third time and see the garage before writing a contract...just a bit much, ok?), but then, I can't imagine anyone who isn't crazy buying this house. Unless it was someone who is rich. If this were a place you spent a weekend every six months, I could understand. Though, if you were going to buy a little refuge in a rural area, I still wouldn't pick D!@#$%^. Have some dignity.
Still, I hope these people are crazy enough to go through with it, and that they're happy while they're here...
As for me, I stand by what I said two days ago. I would like a way to know that I'm getting better. I would like a way to visualize and truly trust in a future where I'm doing well. I would like to know how my life will work out and when to expect certain changes. I would like someone to write me messages with lightning that say things like, "This college will accept you and it will (positively) change your life" and "You'll find a job beyond your dreams in this town at this time in this field." Even, "There will come a day when you will not be sick, and also - not be scared of being well."
I think of recovery as consistently pushing forward, with basically the same energy output at all times. However, sometimes I'm pushing against air, and sometimes, I'm pushing against a solid cement wall. So basically, even when I'm putting forth all the energy I can, and working with everything I have, sometimes things just don't seem to be moving. Eventually, I will get a jackhammer or a ladder or a bit of floo powder and make it through/over/past the wall. But in the meantime, I just feel stupid. My metaphoric arms are tired. Why push at something that won't move? Isn't that counterproductive, just going to tire me out?
Maybe. But if that's the case - if this is a wasteful use of energy - why in the doctor's perception, am I scaling the wall like I'm back on the ropes course - nimble and strong and brave...? What does he know that I don't? And considering I'm the one who has to keep pushing, couldn't I get a glimpse of that insight now and again? Considering he's almost always right, but I'm the one who needs some inspiration, some nourishment, some drive - could I get a peek through his contacts? I want a look from the other side of the ottomon, where past, present, and future spread themselves out smoothly... I'm tangled up in memories, circumstances, worries, and all the rest of it. That damn wall is obstructing my view.
And meanwhile, people I love are screaming - some of them in such a way that I want to gather up my lung-power and shriek back...and some so that I want to abandon my course and cuddle them close. But I'm too stubborn and I'm too angry. I'm just going to kick this wall until my shoes break. I'm just going to sit here until I can finally cry...
Or someone comes by with a better plan.
chord
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