10:00 p.m. - 10/15/02
:back home to me=:-
Alright. Let's think about this a minute. Let's think about one day at a time and slipping is not falling and eventually the future appears. Let's think about the default in depression is survival, that I don't have to do anything in order to wake up tomorrow except sleep, and if I keep checking in with myself I could survive this after all. Think about how in seventh grade I wrote a book where a girl starts to be afraid suicide will take over without her having any say, and someone reminds her that she has the power in that decision. Let's remember that even though depression and the rest of this is disarming and draining and confusing beyond words, I can still hold myself in it well enough that I don't have to lose complete control. I can still reach out little by little, one horrid moment at a time. I have a book full of phone numbers and I can use them one by one; I can track it down when it disappears into the depths of my bedroom and refuses to return. Listen. Let's think about this. I'm not alone anymore. I'm not hopeless anymore. I've been so scared because the feelings are the same, because the problems are still here. Because I'm still a girl feeling more abandoned than loved and more uncertain than self-confident. I still don't know how to take care of myself, or how to keep from hurting myself, and I still can't live my life on my own, or anywhere near that. But that isn't the whole story anymore. My therapists are no longer (solely) people in my head. I have someone now that I can call, who will call me back within 45 minutes, who will listen to what I have to say even when I'm not sure what that is, and will not leave me alone when I'm in a point where I can't survive that. I have a person who, despite being ten minutes late to a theater performance, is still going to be in my life when I show up tomorrow, and is still going to help me through this. I am not where I was a year ago because this time when things are so painful as all this, I can say help to someone who will hear. The pain is overwhelming, has been overwhelming, and I've forgotten- and may forget again- that this time I don't have to face it on my own. No matter how scared I was when he did not show up at exactly 8 pm on Friday, he is still here to help me, and when I say tomorrow that I can't get through another week like the one I've been having, that I need something I can't define, something like more support or more awareness of what support I do have or less fear that I will lose it, he will be there to help me make that real. He will be there to help me figure it out and make my way through it and not die in the process of learning how to live. I don't have to do this alone. I can have a guide, a help, someone who is not simply a friend I depend on too much, or a parent I can't depend on at all. I have an adult who I forget is an adult, who cares about me and is certified to care for me, who will not let me be alone in this. I may need to be reminded of that a few thousand times. I may have no idea what I'm going to say tomorrow, but I know that what I do say will be heard. I'll keep talking until I know that it has been. And he'll help me. I know he will. He'll find a way to make the week possible and the year less terrifying. He'll find a way to convince me I'll find mine. If only for this day, this week, a moment of this time.
I have to keep in mind the future that doesn't terrify me. The one that looks like autumn trees over old houses, stone buildings, clean apartments. The one with people who know that animal crackers are a surefire bandaid on my sadness and long-term hugs are even better. The one where I can look back and say, "Wow, this person has been in my life all this time" and not be the least bit compelled to knock on wood. The future where I tell someone I'll call them back in an hour- because I'm too busy holding someone right then. The future where I have people to hold and be held by, people to know me from quirks to crazy depths, where I'm helping people in my offbeat little way, not just going crazy trying to. There will be a future with oh-so-many kneesocks and people to laugh at them, in that kind laugh that precipitates the sweetest sort of tackle. I want a future that will be a real future, where I don't look at myself and want to hurt away my hurt and disappear. I want to spin when I look in the mirror because my reflection flashing by is as silly as my voice with its adopted accents. Listen. I don't have to do this on my own, not this time, not ever again. I will track them down, the people who will stay no matter what. I already have some parts of this life growing in me, and I just have to remember that no matter how much of the old pain is here, I'm not in that world. Slipping is not falling, and I choose my own tesseracts. I don't have to relapse. I don't have to be alone. I don't have to turn this house into that house, this entry into all those entries. I don't have to turn tonight into two years ago; I just have to keep fighting. It'll come. It'll come. The time when I can be safe and know it's lasting. The time when I can trust myself more fully than I've ever trusted anyone.
I'll ask my questions, get my answers, find my way, and have a home. Listen. I'm here and I'm hearing everything you have to say. I start to fall back and your words point me to the places I need. I never had such consistent words. You point me to myself, and I see there that it was real. I did have days when I felt capable of being free, where I already tasted it. Slipping is not falling, and recovery is what I want. Recovery is freedom, and it doesn't have to be done alone. I can be in pain, I can screw up royally, I can say those things aloud, and have someone come to my aid. It doesn't have to be you, you, you, or you. It doesn't have to be Shannon, with her amazing words, Cami- who I almost called today, or Sara, who called me back just now to say "let's talk tomorrow." It doesn't have to be anyone because everyone is here. See. I just needed to know that something had changed which couldn't go back. I tell people all the time that we are different now; I needed to know how. I needed to remember that I can never be alone again.
I need him to show me tomorrow how I'm not. But because of you, you, you, you, you- I can ask for what I need.
Not through this by any means, but ready to rest and not be so afraid...Ready to rest and fight again. I need help. This time, it won't take so many years.
chord
�
�
