1:40 p.m. - 02/19/02
i >hate> [[this.[..
damihmit.
I am in a very dammit place right now. I'm in a very *fuck* moment. I'm sick. Majorally queasily headachy sleepily beyond sick. Nauseously I cannot-possibly-eat-but-I-have-to-eat-otherwise-I'm-restricting-what-the-fuck-do-I-do kind of sick. And so I've been sleeping. Constantly. I think I slept for twelve hours last night and then woke up for about one and fell asleep for another three. Sleep. And this whole experience has reminded me why I should never quit being an insomniac, why I am *lucky* (fucking lucky) that I do not sleep like a normal person ever. Outside it is raining - beyond raining. It is pouring and the thunder is crashing like an entire orchestra just fell off the stage and is clattering to the floor. And it still isn't enough for me. I want the thunder to sweep me up, my whole house, I want an Oz-bound tornado to swirl me around. It is raining like I haven't seen it rain in ages, and I still don't feel like it's enough. I still don't feel like the weather is actively reflecting the tropical insanity playing out in my head right now.
Do I sound dramatic? I don't *feel* dramatic. I feel like jumping off the slippery roof and crashing to the ground with the rest of the broken instruments. I am actually lucky I'm so depressed because the only thing that keeps me from jumping off the roof right now is the idea that it isn't high enough to kill me, I'll probably just end up injuring or paralyzing myself, and that really wouldn't be an effective way to make me feel better, now would it?
I didn't write last night because I figured if I kept my mouth shut and slept it might blow over. Everything is better after a night of interrupted sleep, right? Not so much. I slept soundly. I had *dreams.* A whole series of fucked up, awful dreams that culminated in my going back to Red. Yes, I actually packed up the car and went back to RED in my subconscious sometime this morning. I actually moved back in there, walked around there, was *there* - although it looked nothing like it actually looks, although none of the people were the right people, and although none of the girls were remotely like the girls I was there with. (There were all these bizarre 13-and-younger types who made no sense to me.) It was awful. To be back at "red" was awful. And I'm sorry if that seems like a stupid thing to be upset over, but do you know what it's like to be back at a place you've wanted nothing more than to be back at for months, only to have a horrible time, and wake up *still here?* I mean, what the fuck am I supposed to do now? I knew I couldn't go back, but I couldn't go back because it wasn't socially acceptable, because I was doing ok with food and it's a hospital, because it didn't make sense to go back - not because it would be an awful experience completely opposite of my memories there. Ok, not completely opposite. Just bad. None of the right people were there for Christ's sake. There were all these weird RCs with bizarre accents who walked in on me when I wasn't wearing clothes, and all these girls who said that my new haircut was "condom hair" meaning the haircut of a girl who slept around...what the fuck? I mean what is this place? This screwy sandmanized RED? Where is my HOME?
I am really losing it, not knowing what to think. If I wasn't sure that someone who said "teacher" "tercheer" would answer the phone, someone I have never known, I would call them right now. If I wasn't completely positive that I would end up talking to someone who I don't understand, someone who would surely make me feel lost, someone who would make me feel even more like jumping off a cliff...oh, fuck the anger is disapating and I want to cry. What the hell am I going to do? Harriet, where are you? Brea, Stacy, Stephanie, Leah - DAVE, even? Where the fuck are you? I want to go home, do you hear me? I want to go home...
I have no home. I have no fucking home. I have a house that looks like a vacation center in the middle of rural Fuck...I have a screwy nightmare version of a place I once loved. I have no friends who aren't long-distance charges, I am losing the memory of what the faces of the Good Ones look like, I have not been hugged by someone other than the Evil Parents in I lost count how long, and in general, I hate my life, myself, and the evil evil Sultan of the Dreamworld.
There is one thing you don't screw with and that is my utopia. There is one thing you don't alter and that is my ability to imagine things better than they are. There is one thing you do not take away and that is my *home* you fucking evil Neil Gaiman wannabe.
BLERGHHHHHHHHHHHH.
miserablechord
"trying to make molehills out of mountains/ building base camp at the bottom of a really big deal/ and did I ever tell you/ how I stopped eating/ when you stopped calling me/ and I was cramped up/ shitting rivers for weeks/ and pretending that I was finally free..."
-Ani "Independence Day"
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