10:00 p.m. - 11/21/03
i have earned my disillusionment.
hi tracy.
hi, two-years-three-months.
the doctor says my impatience with being sick is proof that I'm starting to be healthy, and my insistence that I should be healthy is proof that I'm still sick. he says it takes years to earn one's phd and I have to start giving myself more breaks, remembering that self-judgment has never resulted in progress. all the growth I've had these past few years has come from greater compassion toward and a committment to care for myself. he says I can keep doing what I've done for so long (it seems) now, and I can take rest breaks, too. he says there's been an inordinate amount of tragedy. several times, I wanted to slug him because he wasn't giving me a magic answer, and he wasn't making me feel better instantly, like I used to feel when people were kind and caring. but I realized coming home that what I miss right now - the way people cared for me when I was unable to care for myself - is the beginning of the help I'm getting now. meaning, there's no logic in being jealous of people who receive that sort of attention because, ultimately, they'll be where I am as well, working to be somewhere else altogether. so, if I don't want to move in circles, there's no future in wishing to be tended. not to minimize the merit of the longing. I miss being in an environment of such unbelievable love. and that I won't stop wishing for. with help, I may not even stop working toward it.
I'm thinking, at this point, anything but life would be anticlimatic... so, I guess I'll see him Friday. assuming I survive the impending "holiday" that is. oh, to omit that bit of the script, and skip ahead to January. nice, safe January, who pushes no pain in my face. in sympathy with Charlie Brown: I know my parents are getting a divorce. why must we have a holiday to emphasize it?
I'm going to bed. tell the help to wake me the moment I'm better.
chord
�
�
