Get your own
 diary at DiaryLand.com! contact me older entries newest entry

10:50 a.m. - 05/23/02
memo: i am the adolescent. me.
am too busy singing along with my tracy bonham cd to construct sentences. i feel less inclined to reiterate the happenings of my life with no one here to inform. after all, i have experienced them, so does it really matter if they're documented? but then, in a few days, i'll need something to help me understand that these particular plastic castles are indeed ones i've witnessed in the past. and it's not that i don't feel like writing; it's just that i don't feel like writing, "i did this, said this, had this said to me."

and also, i have my last algebra assignments (minus exam review) to complete, i.e. begin.

it seems like an epidemic of diary door-closing. even though it's only been cami, lindsey, and me. it seems like an epidemic, i suppose, because those two have been here with me for so long, and even though cami has been passworded off and on, and lindsey has done some journal-switching, it's still weird to think i won't have access to their imoods and their turns of phrase.

there is such a thing as e-mail; surely i remember this.

not so surprising: i still feel like a bitch for closing down these doors. i guess that proves how much the writing was no longer for me (fully) because other people's opinions (as perceived; in reality, no one's even yelled at me) still bother me more than my own. in my defense, i did password it. i did follow my own heart rather than the imagined beats of others.

(who's got the bulldog, whoa oh oh oh? who's got the bulldog, who-oh-oah?)

angelfire doesn't want to let me in today. it is only a matter of time before my computer crashes. i need to take a shower and distract myself from my pain. i need to sing loudly and throw my red rubber ball at the walls my father tells me not to break. my parents have driven me so far off the deep end, i've lost sight of my course. i could barely talk at the doc's office yesterday, which is so incredibly frustrating. i was too shut down. fortunately, it was dr. r and not harriet, so he was calm and helping instead of irritated and instigatory.

is instigatory a word? it doesn't really matter, and there's no one here to answer anyway.

anyway...we spoke a little off and on. he told me that if I was shut down, it was probably a necessary defense, and so maybe we should just sit with that, and try to understand why. and i kind of wanted to smack him, through no fault of his own, but luckily i was too far lost inside myself.

simply put, it's something like that: as wonderful as it should be to hear him say things like "you're absolutely right" and "you wouldn't be doing this if you didn't honestly need to be" it makes me want to pull my hair out, honestly. because what does that help - knowing that I'm doing what any normal person would, knowing that I make sense? the affirmation that would send me skipping in any other situation bogs me down here. I don't want him to tell me I'm doing the best I can or that anyone in my situation could. I want him to say, "this does suck; here's how to fix it..."

i'm lucky he's real enough to say the first part.

he did take me off the Wellbutrin, which surprised me, mostly because I'm used to him telling me that my life sucks beyond the interference of meds, and I thought he would test me again before he made any changes. but I suppose it was pretty obvious I wasn't getting much help from my biological sidekicks, and when I described side effects such as "fever" to him, he didn't seem all that gung-ho to raise it. so now I'm officially withdrawing from another med (yippee), and next week we'll re-examine. I wonder if he's going to take me off the buspar before putting me on something new, or if he'd still rather replace before subtracting. i have a theory it's the latter but we will wait and see.

the second long silences between songs are enough to make me throw the monitor into the kitchen. or maybe not quite. it seems to still be sitting here.

i still haven't sent my letter to katie. i guess i'm too shut down to make any contact. i wrote letters (katie, dixie) and i can't send them. i haven't responded to brooke in months. ok, this is officially an 'i-suck" paragraph; therefore it needs to end.

brooke is a sweetie.

I didn't even realize my parents were the ones shutting me down, not that they are, necessarily, not fully. But yesterday, when they were gone from 1:30 until sometime this morning, I was much more loose with myself, and I even did some (real) writing, which hasn't been possible while they're here. and they did really piss me off this morning. from the time I got up until the time they left, they were fighting. and my mom said something to me about how she was sorry, but she had purposefully pushed his buttons because she wants him to get better (my dad needs to get angry, and he doesn't have the help of dave)...so I told her whatever, next time, wait until you're in the car.

they went to a baseball game. they won't be home for hours. this doesn't make me happy, but it makes things better than the other way around.

he said - there is a reason these guards are up right now. he said - with a home life so volatile, it makes sense. what you're doing anyone would do.

I told him that I'm sick of having to do it, and he agreed with something that looked almost like a sympathetic anger. I told him that I want to leave, and he asked me how plans were for escaping this summer. And even though I had meant, "I want to pack a bag and hit the street" his response seemed to say something like, "even I, with all my determined optimism, understand that this sucks beyond coping for you."

and it does. whether he truly knows that or not. they can fix what they want to fix; they can fight when they want to fight - I don't want anything to do with it. I shouldn't have to sit here while they solve themselves.

this is *not* my job.
chordling

previous - next

about me - read my profile! read other Diar
yLand diaries! recommend my diary to a friend! Get
 your own fun + free diary at DiaryLand.com!