10:40 p.m. - 08/19/02
subtle graffirmations.
Between the impossible issues that diaryland has been having all night and the impossible issues that my computer has *every* night I'm amazed I haven't completely pulled out all of my hair and woven it into a nice basket. [Insert trite reference to putting hell inside this or me simply being a basket-case here.] I managed the previously impossible task of having a nice IM conversation with my oldest brother, though, so that was worth the trouble. Or would be if the trouble were over. If anyone knows how to deal with .pdd files and/or can host *one* image for me, I'd be much obliged. I'm hoping to reopen Wednesday (I just realized about an hour ago that I want to open then so badly because it would mark the anniversary of finding home in life by going to home in journal-land...) and any assistance would be muchos appreciated.
It was nice to talk with Dale, though. Somehow this Winter Machine CD is doing wonders for our relationship. I told him to check them out, thought he might like them, but he hasn't gotten to yet. Still, just listening to Coleman Lindberg makes me remember, for some reason, the person that Dale was in high school. I didn't know I still remembered that person. It makes me want to commit more to finding him in who Dale is now, to finding how to like and love again.
I never stopped loving him. It's just been awkward for a long, long time...
Other than the hell that is Mary-attempting-to-be-computerish, the day has actually been really lovely. I'm amazed at how content I've been these past few days. Ups and downs but all around better. And (knock on wood) no black holes in my head. It does wonders to have people to touch base with and things to feel excited for...Just having more than one person to talk with this week, having seen Julie and Cami, and the idea that something new, something different, even if it is school starting will soon occur, leaves me feeling better. I'm excited about opening atomgirl again, I'm excited about maybe calling RED on Wednesday, if I'm brave and safe enough. I'm excited about all these things that I'm doing. Mostly- I don't know- I'm excited about the fact that for once in my life, I'm excited. Even if it only lasts a week. It's been so long, since I had a *week* like this...
Maybe it's just the realization that if I weren't me, I'd want to read my journal. If I stumbled across it in diaryland, I would think this girl was marvelously cool in a dorky sort of way. And I'm glad of that. I'm glad that for once I can not only gain the love and acceptance of others without having to hold up my pain and my scars, but I can gain my own as well. Even if it ends soon, even if this is just a short taste, I'm glad that for a moment, I'm doing alright.
It's like the moment about a week or two before leaving RED, when the grief suspended itself for a short moment, and I had *one night* where I understood that I was being discharged because I was ok. I had done something incredible, something I'd considered impossible, something really truly wonderful. I'd saved my own life. And all of a sudden, I was bouncing around, I was singing, I was laughing. I'd forgotten to take my anxiety meds, so my energy was high, and I was on top of the world, even though I knew I was going to crash. And Leah and Lainie were there and they stood in the hallway and I stood by the cabinets, and they smiled at me, and I realized, this is how I want it; here but well.
So I'm not there, but maybe, maybe the well is still in tact...?
I saw Tammy today, and I drew my face into an almost-wince when I told her what Wednesday will mean, but it was a smile, too. And she took a deep breath, like it was heavy on her, too, and then she smiled, and applauded quietly, (my public applause)...And we talked for 1/2 an hour longer than we're supposed to about all the things we wish we could tell ourselves 1 or 15 years ago, all the things we wish we could tell the girls who've followed in those footsteps we can't quite wash away. And it was lovely. We think differently in many ways, but still, there's something in her that makes me feel stronger than I know I am- and more alive.
I'm grateful for the fucking world.
chord
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