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1:50 p.m. - 03/13/02
still it seems a tragic fate.
dear red...

you know that if I'd been thinking I wouldn't have called. I wish I'd been thinking. or maybe I was thinking too much- it would seem that way from how little sleep I got last night, and the way my spinning thought-gears triggered tears again. it happens. I know it happens. but I didn't realize how little sense it would make to call and say I felt like a screw-up, thereby screwing up my poster-child status, thereby proving myself right.

I know it isn't bad that I called, and Stephanie is grand...she's just so good at the "get back up!" coach call that sometimes it's hard to talk with her when you're down. I'd forgotten that. sometimes it's hard to talk with her when you're down and you just want to stay down for awhile, and cry...

I needed Stacy or Brea or Kat...maybe even dumb old Dave- I wouldn't have expected anything good from him. it's not that I didn't enjoy talking to Steph, it just wasn't what I needed, and if calling RED wasn't what I needed, what the hell else can I do? I took a shower, I put on pajamas, I planned to veg all day...what else can I do to heal the hollows in my chest and my stomach, the stinging in my eyes...?

I love you red. You know that. I want to be your daughter. I want to be your protege, your darling. I want to be among you, and that shouldn't mean I have to perform, so I don't know why I'm telling myself I did something wrong in calling when I was upset, but I am.

I'm just so dumb, red.

why can't I just look at my life and see that I'm doing well? I mean, I feel like *shit* and I haven't purged, I haven't restricted, I've maintained all health status, and I've continued to talk and reach out. that's it. it's the reaching out part. that's the pain, or part of it. it's back to that old, I reach out and no one's there feeling, even though Steph was there, and Cat was there to give her the phone, and I should really be pleased with the workings of the universe and the effort I put into picking up that phone. I'm just NOT...because...because everything *hurts* so much...

I feel so expendable, and I'm tired of it. It isn't fair that all of these people, these outside people, can look at me and say, "You're so talented" or "you're so this or that or whatever" and I look at myself and all I see is failing and worthlessness and minor potentials gone unfulfilled (i.e. disappointments.) Nothing. I see nothing. And I hate that all of these people all over the universe can look at me and say, "I believe in you" and "it's time you spread your wings and fly" and when I reply "or crash" they just shake their head like it's impossible.

It's not impossible. I'm not some fucking genius or prodigy or savior. I'm just a stupid little girl crying her eyes out because she wants to be able to *perceive* - really and truly - what everyone else sees in her and she can't.

What do I have to do? To show myself I'm worth existing? What do I have to do to see myself the way everyone else sees me? Why do I have to live this way, like the girl who runs the sun...everyone waving up and thanking me for keeping the brightness going, meanwhile my skin burns and burns and burns?

I never want to let you down, red. I never want to be the girl who almost lived.

chord

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