7:00 p.m. - 05/21/02
a hiding place.
This is so lovely...I don't even believe it myself.
I didn't know how much I wanted this until I clicked to lock it with only my access. I didn't know how much I needed this until I changed the font back to the one I started with, when this was just my space, and changed the background to this blue-gray beautiness. God...it looks like water and translucent lilies: i.e. heaven.
I just need a mermaid shooing stardust to complete the feel. This is so nice. I feel like I'm sitting on my bed in a finally clean room, rubbing my socks against the bedcovers and pretending to read. But not reading, just loving the space. My space.
It's not that I don't love them all, I do; I just needed to dive below water for a moment- I needed a place to be just me. I don't have that off-line right now so I needed to seize it here. And I do feel guilty. Dr. R is right saying that I always feel guilty about leaving, about doing what I need, even when I doubt it's what others want. But it feels so good here.
I'm listening to Tori. Under the Pink. It's a complete antidote to everything I'm feeling, at least temporarily. And it's actually not forcing me into junior high flashbacks. I think because I used to listen to it alone, and I need to be alone, so I'm just in the goodness of that.
Well, alone in the sense of I can close a door when I want to...not in the sense of I live in the middle of nowhere without a friend in the state. Ah, self-pity. Self-pity is my friend today. I have an awful migraine for the second day in a row (following the second random coma in a row) and I'm emotionally spent. I need to see the doctor tomorrow, and I need a day at the spa minus my agoraphobia, etc.
On the plus side, my mom has been completely kind about the entire thing. She put up with my crabbiness this morning, clucked over me (but not too closely) in the afternoon, and actually went out in search of caffeine to combat the antagonistic blood vessels. I hope my nerves don't mind too much; they already dealt with havoc today when I put off taking my anxiety meds to write a letter and ended up not taking them in time to be calm for 'school.'
It did go fairly well, though. We joked as always, she asked how things are (and was genuinely interested in my response) as always, and there was some subtle 'i'll miss you this summer' stuff going on between the lines. There was a little rough patch when we talked about signing up for next year, and I said I just needed to give the classes to my mom, at which point she said, "You know, you are a junior- you should be able to set up your own schedule." I joked it off- ("Have you noticed I can't even leave the house?") but it stayed with me. I'm just so vulnerable about what everyone thinks I'm supposed to be able to do and my own feelings of not achieving that. But now no one will be judging my daily routine because no one is reading it, so I feel better. I know she would never want to hurt my feelings that way.
At the end, too, she said she had to go pick up her daughter, and I said, "oh, yeah. don't abandon her on my account." and she talked about how she had managed not to do so, but probably would forget her in the last four days because of the crazy end-of-the-year busyness. I joked, "eh, well- my parents forgot me many times, and I turned out fine!" We laughed, and she said, "I better go," with an overt seriousness, and I wished her godspeed, but then...when she didn't turn and say, "No, really, you wouldn't be a completely awful person for her to grow up into," it started to sting. Even though it was my joke. I'm hypersensitive. Not to mention I want everyone to be like Brea- that time when she said she'd never make fun of me, then repeated it with seriousness.
I need to have love drilled into my head. It's not like it would feel very different to have a drill in my skull right now. I can't believe I'm going to have to set an alarm again. I've had the internal thing going so well...
Things worth mentioning:
The letter I wrote today was to my Katie. And it talked about what's happened this past year in hopes that we won't have to avoid speaking out of nervousness about that little elephant.
Silje called me yesterday and then (after seeing the ID) I called her and I'm sure I'll be beaten royally when the phone bill arrives, but dammit, that might have been the best moment I've had in the past few months. Hearing her voice again, talking with someone who understood *all* of it (including Rogers, which is probably the one thing Dr. R is missing- not including those I haven't shared with him)...pipe-dreaming about visits to Norway and rap speaks which may not be pipe dreams. I felt like an angel had lifted me up, and in the moment, that was not cliche.
God bless the way she stays in touch. I need it so badly, and I need so badly for her to need me, too...
For a moment, before I compared it with my little phone/address book, I thought the number might have been Jenna. But...when it wasn't...I actually felt better. When it was Silje, I actually felt better. Even though that shows I haven't moved on as completely as I'd like to believe, I didn't care. I was just glad to have a purely good conversation with a purely good friend.
I found my one and only snail mail letter from Billy today. And there is so much to say on that subject, but I must go consume caffeine now. So...another day.
love*love*love*love*love
chord
to me? to this diary? to the world and those who let me lock it? I don't know...but love...
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