9:55 p.m. - 09/19/02
oh, baby, maybe someday][oh baby maybe somehow...
I'm (physically) sick, like half the world. I think my fever's broken, but I still feel icky. My main hope right now is that this night of vast self-pity will help me reacquire my sense of self. (Otherwise where will the pity go?) I've been rather crabby all day, so it's a good thing no one had to put up with me. I'm just so crazy over everything right now. My life is completely abnormal, and yet I miss my "normal" life. I miss the craziness I've come to consider comforting.
It'll be nice the day I know my writing does not actually worsen when I'm ashamed of it. The way I know I've not actually gotten uglier when I feel bad about myself. I feel like I must be boring the snot out of everyone, but what can I find to say? I didn't have any therapy today, which is good because I probably would have bit his head off...and...did I just say that? Not having had therapy was good because I might have gotten angry? Beep, beep, beep. We have confirmation. My anger issues have returned. Among other things, perhaps, but they are here and they are troublesome.
Resentful. He wanted me to know I can be resentful. And I didn't understand- I don't understand- why I would possibly feel resentment. Toward friends who have done nothing wrong? Toward friends who are struggling so dearly themselves? Toward people who care deeply for me, whom I care deeply for? Well? Does it make sense?
It doesn't. But I'm remembering some things. When I first got home, I was mad as hell at everyone. I was so angry. I lashed out at my parents, at Randy, at the IOP, because I blamed them for my not being at Rogers. I hated them for trying to establish a life for me *here* when I so obviously needed to be *there.* And I hated them for not being what I needed. I mean, come on, it wasn't much to ask. I felt so alone, so completely, desperately alone, and on top of that I was pushing people away. I was so mad at them for not being who I needed, I wouldn't let them be anyone.
After Tracy died, I started lashing out at everyone again. I made note of it; I remember telling Harriet that I absolutely was not made at Tracy, but she was probably the only person. I'm resentful of my situation, I guess, and maybe I'm blaming other people for it. Maybe I feel like they're contributing...
My mom today. (Why can't I write a full sentence? Damn.) She drove me crazy. She hasn't been doing well. She got sick today, either what I have or some sort of food poisoning, on top of which she's been really struggling with ...something or another... I have no idea what. I feel like if I put a single straw on her shoulder, she will crumble under it. And I resent that. I do. I'm angry at her for not being able to take care of me, damnit. I know I'm almost 18, and I'm supposed to be able to do these things, but I *don't* ask much from her. I haven't depended on her in a very long time, and because of that, I get this idea in my head that I *deserve* what I do need from her. Like, if I never ask for much, I should be given what I do ask for. Am I proud of this? No. But if I'm going to hate what I write here, I might as well be truthful. I resent her for flipping out the other night because I ate dinner before she came home ("I didn't realize you were going to make dinner." "I always plan to make dinner! I will always make dinner!" Oh...ok...it's just that you almost never do...), making a habit of cooking, and then being sick and not planning to eat. I was just glad she finally had some soup. I was like, Alright, whatever. Don't do what you were always going to do. I know you're sick; I'll get over it. But can you do me a favor and *not* sit there and skip supper while I try to swallow one exchange after another? Please?
I wonder if I feel any of that toward my friends with EDs. Like...ok, you don't have to be here for me (except they are...) just please don't trigger it. I don't know. My friends with EDs are there for me so much more, though. Our struggles and our support go both ways; I really feel they do. And even though I sometimes wish I had a sponsor, someone I could talk with who was always always always doing better than I am, I do have a therapist. And if I weren't being such a dumbbell, I could lean on him.
I feel like my life is a reality tv show. This twisted version of reality wherein I just have to survive insane circumstances for a few more months. Survive. Do what I have to do to get through. It's so annoying. I don't want this! I want friends and family and people to make my life good, and I don't have it. I did my part, ok? I proved that when I was in a loving situation, I could love back? I could support and help and live *back.* So why am I here? Why am I being given such minimal amounts of caring to exist with? I *know* I have friends all over the world, I know people care about me, but why why why can't anyone be here? Why do I have to do this all alone? How come my friends, who are sick and struggling, have more people to love them than I do? How come I have to be sick to be in the hospital, to be in the best place I've ever had? Why- when I did so much of what they asked- am I the one who lost it all? Why did the people who didn't manage to so firmly break away from illness get to stay inside some version of that world? I'm mad. I feel cheated. I did everything. I've worked so hard. I've given my fucking life to this recovery, and I'm still alone at a computer. Without an illness. Without some very large parts of what my illness was.
And you know what, that's lonely, too. And I'd do it again, disclaimer, disclaimer, disclaimer, I'd do this all again, but it isn't fucking fair. That I gave this my everything and lost the little support I had. That they taught me to live by giving me something I don't have in my life. They convinced me to come out of it only to find that the perk I was working toward would be reposessed. What do I have left? I traded in my illness. I'm too far into recovery now. I can't ever be who I was last year. Even if there were some way to access all the behaviors, they couldn't do as much as they did because I know different things now, and I don't want them, I really don't. But I would do anything to have these people back. Including be sick again. They weren't supposed to leave. (I'm so sorry I'm saying this; I should be a good example. I want to help you help yourself. It really is the best thing to recover.) I'm so scared. I don't want to be alone. I just want more than anything to be with them, with anyone, goddamnit, who can love me. Just hold me through the night; don't let me fall. Be there when I wake up from nightmares; be there when I wake up from dreams. Let me learn to call your laughter with my words.
Don't leave. Not again, not again, not again, not again, not again. This time, someone just please stay. Someone make it worth it before it's too late.
chord...
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