10:10 p.m. - 11/21/02
((somewhere between holiness |and borrowed time]]
Yes, it saved me. So random. I'm not fully sure how it came to happen, except that once I visited my sister and her roommate played Little Earthquakes. She would hardly let a song begin before moving to the next one, but somehow I latched on anyway. And Sarah bought it, I made a tape, and listened to it daily. China cut off the first side and played full on the second. And slowly I found Ani and Dar and Winter Machine and everyone else who daily saves my life, by way of my d: drive. I had built up most of my collection before I knew how many of the artists were gay, before I could accurately define "feminist." And sometimes I still look back and wonder how my solely-showtunes interest moved into music of this kind. But Tori Amos taught me to write poetry, by showing me the places of myself I did not know existed. She taught me how to survive the pain through words I'd only used in fiction to that point. So I understand that some people don't care for her, that she may be less than brilliant in one way or another, that she might not strike a person's fancy just that way...but I take it in the way I would with a sibling or a savior. A quick nod, allowing your opinion, and aware of mine. Once upon a time, she was the only person who could break through the fog long enough to make pictures of it. She was, quite truly, all I had back then. So, you will understand, when I say she was like Rogers. She did not transform me, but she allowed me to see who I was. She allowed me to remain *here* to meet my metamorphosis. I could write so many entries on this. I still may.
It's been a long day. I am recouperating, oh so slowly, from this head cold. I only know this by the fact that I am able to sit here and type last night, a feat I couldn't achieve 24 hours past. I didn't have the strength to post last night's entry until this morning, which shows I've been near mush. I have trudged my way through the latest physics chapter (oh the joy of force, gravitational field strength, and the like) in hopes of taking tomorrow's test on it. Slightly terrified about the prospect. I have the whole morning and most of the afternoon to prepare a chapter based in algebraic formulas (no prob?)...but I'm scared all the same. This afternoon thoughts started screaming in my head, how I have to quit faking illness and being such a lazy bi*ch, how I have to quit faking neediness and start applying myself to my work. If you're not smart, admit it sorts of thoughts. I'm tired of them, and the only way I know to fight is to punctuate my studying with naps, and my napping with a study break. To continue school and still take care of myself that would not warrant reproach from DCF. I try, moment by moment. If it doesn't work, I will not be beheaded. (This time. N*land has lost its hold on me, somewhat.)
I could use a day or two of sleep, but unfortunately Thanksgiving break is less than a week away, and I found out Wednesday that exams have been moved to before Christmas this year. Thus, I have to kick academic ass in order to finish what I need to and start my finals early. It's a complicated request based largely in me showing my teachers I can be ready for them early...In the long run, it offers more time to study for each individual exam, and a somewhat peaceful Winter Break, but at the moment, I would really rather lock myself into a closet, or below a bed. At the moment, I could probably use some meds.
Had the funny feeling yesterday that the doc was worried I take my meds too much. The anxiety ones. I think because I was so adamant about how helpful they are. I told him I can't imagine taking them more than four times a week, and I almost never do that (you may not remember, when I started taking them I was allowed up to twice a day.) So he can't be worried. I should add paranoia to my list of symptoms.
I'm scared, mostly. More than anything, and not just about this school obstacle. I'm scared because one month from today is It, (oh Jesus, a full backpack just fell off one of the stools and scared the crap out of me- I really needed that...) and even though Sara and I are going to talk, I'm just really freaked. I saw what happened with one-year about Rogers, and I know I'm not ready for this one either. I just found out my mom has a huge solstice gala thing at work, and I know my dad is gathering courage to ask off work on *Christmas*...there's no way he'll be home four days before. I simply don't know what forces to call in. I could try to be with John, but will that really be so helpful? Likely not. I could call Sara, but home alone could still be dangerous. I'll get through it, just a tad bit scared. I should bring it up next Wednesday; some early planning might be good.
I see Tammy that day also. Not sure how to feel about that, honestly.
Time for sleep. I had good people in bad dreams last night. Maybe tonight can improve the latter just a bit?
frumph,
chord
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