8:46 p.m. - 04/10/03
still searching for a garden.
today's number one feeling is definitely sadness. I don't know how I've made it through the straggly mess of it all to determine that, but this biting in my throat, this cough caught in my lungs, I recognize as sadness. I want to cry, which I know now is ok, I just - don't know why. I can't quite push the feelings to the surface, and I'm not entirely sure I want to do so. blasted complications.
I'm listening to the Storm Not You* mix my sister made me when I went to Rogers. I've forgotten most of what's on it, and it's nice to hear again. Nice to remember when I first listened to it, and all the sweet things Sis has done for me over the years. We may have a ways to go together, but I don't mind that. I wouldn't want to go the distance without her, no mater what my in-the-moment feelings might suggest. and anything that makes me feel slightly better right this moment is worth much. la. the problem with this journal is I can't sing, and I'm not Van Gogh, and I can't possibly communicate the brush-stroke-vocal-cord sort of emotion that I need to communicate right now. well, that, and it needs a good layout.
whatever the reason, I do feel compelled to bawl my eyes out a bit and to be held as I do so. this thing that happened with the doctor last Tuesday; it's remaining problematic, I think because of how I've been dealing with it. I told myself that it was ok because it's so impossibly rare, because he never misunderstands me (Tuesday excluded.) but that isn't really true. we don't communicate perfectly. we misunderstand each other, if only for half one second, every session. and now that I promised myself what happened would never happen again, all those one second miscommunications have far more weight than I want them to have. The first part of the session today was ok...but as it went on, I started to feel more and more of those strong unhappy feelings, and I started to think about all that's going on right now, and how much of it all hurts, and how badly, and I didn't know what to say anymore. I told him that I wished I could see so clearly as he can that we are pointed toward the world's best destination, and that not seeing it, I'm not sure how to get there. Even if the answer is "hang on...do nothing" I'm not sure I can do that. I'm not sure I can keep hanging on. And I'm not sure why I said that...because I can hang on, I can hang on so much more easily than I could have a week ago, but when he said, "Sure you can" so confidently, I just wanted to throw a pillow at him. I think maybe I told him I can't hold on because I want him to know how badly it hurts. I don't want the fact that I'm dealing with it all to minimize how much pain I'm up against. and the thing is- he knows. he knows how badly it all hurts; he was talking to me about that. he said we're on a hot and crowded bus to the promised land, and it's a bumpy road, but we are headed to good things. I think I just wanted to hear, "I'm sorry it hurts so bad." I know he is. I know he thinks I deserve better than this, and he even said today that he wishes he could just give me that better life, but I still just ... I'm in this mood. This horrid little mood where I just want to cry and sleep and wallow, and I want someone to sit with me while I do that. I want to be held, and I'm not held, I'm never held...and it just makes me want to show somoene how much pain, or to say things like "can't do this" that will make them understand that as strong as I've grown, the pain hasn't lessened. I think I fucked up the entire session trying to make him comfort me, and I didn't even realize it until now. It's fine. I can do better Tuesday. I just...I wasn't even thinking as we were talking. I was just like, no no no no no. And not in the way I was last Tuesday, where what he said really felt injurious. It was just that spoiled, cocky, "no, you don't understand" sort of refusal. Because I take damn good care of myself, and I'm proud of that, but I still want someone hold me while I cry. I still want that.
And when we move to the city, I'll meet people. I'll meet people after I go places. I'll go places after I learn how. I'm so scared of it all. I want it so badly, and I'm so scared of the process it will take for me to get through my fear, to the point where I can have that life. We talked a lot about it today, which I think is sort of the first step. First, you just talk about spiders. Then you consider seeing a spider. Then you see one. Systematic, they call it. We talked a lot about it, and I started crying as I watched the stupid little pictures in my mind. He told me that we have to heal that fear of being trapped in the situation; I need to write the play of these situations, with all the places where I might want to run, and then we need to put escapes in those places, so I always *can.* And I just started crying. Because I write award-winning plays that people put on in New York. And what we're talking here is, "Mary Learns to Purchase a Product" and "Mary Learns to Order Food" which just makes me so raw inside. These are kindergarten skits. These are...things that should be easy. These aren't fair things. And as much as he talked about trauma and how anyone who has experiences like I've had, even if I don't remember all of them- experiences like panicking again and again and again behind the wheel of a car and still being in driver's ed- would develop avoidance tendencies and phobias, I just don't want to be that kind to myself right now. I mean I do. But I want everyone else to be kind to me, too. And I don't wholly know that's possible. God, we even talked about this today. We even talked about the fear that I'll fall off of people's radar screens, as I become more and more healthy. How didn't I realize what was going on? I just want so badly to be someone's kid tonight. To be someone's little sister or little friend. I want to be someone's needy love. I want to be held, like I haven't been in months. And I know it's coming, I just...get so hollow waiting for it.
But he's learned not to call my parents' house my home, and he uses Harry Potter metaphors. He called me Hermione today, but he can learn better. (He meant it as a compliment, but my sister is Hermione; that's established. My favorite character is McGonogall, and if I'm a witch-in-training, I suppose I'd want to be referred to as Ginny, because I've been a little in love with her since the first book. Who knows why. Probably the youngest thing...) I think I'm going to e-mail him, something I haven't done in some time. E-mail him and say what's going on post April-Fool's and what I think went on today, below my own radar screen...
And in the meantime, I haven't seen Tammy since ...November? It's been a hugely long time, whenever the last visit was. And I'm doing ok without seeing her, and I still think it might be more damaging than it would be helpful, but I'm a little freaked (at the moment) that I'm not still doing so. I think because my food has been bad the past few days. Not so much my normal version of restricting, just sort of eating crap instead of meals, the way people do sometimes. Except I can't do it because I've had migraines all week, and I think it has to do either with the lack of good food, or with my meds' ability to work without the help of good food. I don't know if that's the entire reason. Maybe I'm just nervous that if I go too long without talking with her, I'll lose the option forever, or I'll ensure my own relapse or something. I should probably call and leave her a voice message about how I'm doing, just to prove that I still have that option, and I am taking care of myself. I ate three really, really good meals today. I even went out for one of them. I wasn't sure how real a lunch I'd make myself if I'd gone home, so I agreed to go out (knowing I could eat what I might not prepare.) And I ate a real breakfast, which I don't even do when my eating is normal. (I get the exchanges; I just can't eat a breakfast-breakfast right away in the morning. It doesn't work.) And this is far too much food talk. If I start using numbers to convey my feelings, someone will slap me, won't they?
Speaking of numbers, have you noticed the times? Because I'm getting better and better and soon it won't even matter anymore, after mattering for years. That's cool. It's the type of thing I entirely didn't need to challenge, and I did it anyway.
what's good about this journal is I figure out what the feelings are thinking. so to speak.
chord
*part of the lyric from "Hold On" in the Secret Garden, which is included in the mix ... and why is it that no matter how many times I listen to this song, it still manages to mend me, even if only in part?
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