8:25 p.m. - 12/30/02
medless wordage.
dear sir: (fucking ed fuck-fuck)
I understand that in the place where you come from, people do not eat oddly during holidays. I understand that where you come from, people do not eat in general, unless they are bad and need to use food to grow more-bad and do more bad things. I understand that you expect me to live by the standards of that world or feel your wrath. and I still have to say fuck you ed fuck-fuck. because honestly? I do not live in your world. In this world, we have a very different idea of what makes a person bad. In this world, I am mainly-if-not-entirely good, and ever-so forgivable. In this world, we eat to sustain ourselves, so we continue living and learning and growing and, in my case, kicking you even further into the dirt with the toe of my boot. Squash.
feel free to leave me alone.
~me
*
that said. why on earth didn't *I* get Cami? *pout*
that said today has been relatively ok, although I know that is going to be finite, as I made the not-so-good and ever-so-unintentional mistake of not taking my meds. they're still hanging out in my bag from the twenty-four hours I spent in Narnia, and in my case, monkey-no-see means monkey-no-do. I think it's starting to catch up with me now, and if it's not it will. I don't consider that pessimism. I consider that reality.
but speaking of pessimism, I got a call from the world's most cynical dearheart (my brother John) today. and he was not being cynical, and he wasn't mad that I didn't finish the writing task he (so kindly) delegated to me, and so we had a nice little chat. he's been converted to the collective of people who totally grovel at the feet or Dr. R. ok, maybe he doesn't grovel- but he's impressed. John, who swore he'd never see another therapist after a bad-bad go of it with Judie. (I really did discourage that; I did.) he's genuinely doing better and genuinely impressed at that idea. it's been a long time since he had that kind of concrete hope, and I'm happy for him. I'm happy that he's having those moments in the doc's office where it's like, "wow. that was a really good answer. ok." when you say something you know no one can possibly fix, and the doctor doesn't fix it, but he makes it somehow less awful. I'm glad he's having those moments, and I'm glad that I helped him believe it would work this time. he said that watching me in the months before he started seeing the doc, it was impossible to deny my progress. he'd seen me stay sick with every doctor in the tri-state area. but with Dr. R, it was working, so he must be good.
(I did use my voice and point out that the Rogers docs also had a hand in this, and John agreed instantly, which was good because it means I didn't strangle him with the phone cord. And then, he made a joke about the "assembly line" which is what he calls the team approach Red uses, and I said that Dr. R was like his own condensed version of all the people on the assembly line, and we had fun making the kind of therapy jokes that Sarah rolls her eyes at. Silly, uninitiated Sarah.)
I also found out that my talk with the doctor took place right after John saw him yesterday, which means the good doc got a Lastname two-for-one. I felt a little sad about that, but what can you do. The doc says there's no limit, that he'll manage the boundary, and never be pissed when I call. Says it's not my job to keep from calling to make sure we stay ok. If I type that enough times, I may begin to believe it. I think it's worked in the past.
I think the doc might be managing to affirm on some level a belief that it is not bad for me to socialize on-line. I've been on IM two or three times this week. I think just two, but maybe I signed on a third, and no one was around? Anyway, it's bizarre behavior for the Mary of these days. The Mary of these days goes months on end without every logging on. But lately, yes, I have been. And I've been having all these lovely bouncy conversations that make me feel fuzzy and overly caffeinated. To the point that when a handful of my N*land friends called to say they want to see me, I responded (by e-mail, but nonetheless, responded) to say that's a very good idea, and how about This Place in the city- does that sound good? I'd rather not see them here, and I know that I can't possibly see them in Neverland, so my favorite neighborhood in the nearest metropolis sounds good. There are shops and coffehouses and other such nonsense to help us be entertained. and since I'll have an hour drive home, I can always be like, "well, I really should get going, early day tomorrow..." and skiddadle. I'm not sure who will show up if this goes through, and I'm a little nervous about a particular possibility that was mentioned. Let's just say that despite what I've thought at isolated moments of my past, I have yet to meet a Jason who doesn't frighten me.
Still, socialization is vastly good. I must find intelligent life. Outside my house, outside my modem, outside the fucking nature preserve (with hunters?!) I send my letters from...I must find good, supportive, people who live within a twenty mile radius, and while I do that, I must continue to work on phone-skills, and go on IM, and send letters and packages (psst- watch your mail), and generally accept sweet friends on kind offers. I can be a high schooler for an afternoon in the city, can't I? I can wear a kickass outfit and be my kickass self? I can spit food in their face if they make jokes about how I didn't used to eat it. And then I can make better, non-attacking jokes about it. And win them over better than my shy self ever did. Because I am vastly, deeply cool and all worlds, past and future, will soon know. Will know presently, mwa ha.
...Is that it? No. There has to be more.
Oh, yes. I read Coraline today and loved it utterly (though not as much as I've loved other books, or other Gaiman). Still, enough that I was pissed when some ass wrote a review (homebound tactic to make up for not being able to discuss books after reading them: read reviews) saying that it was just a cheap recreation of all those Alice In Wonderland, Phantom Tollbooth, Chronicles of Narnia sorts of books. And I was like, yes-and? As if we don't need more of those books! And it's certainly not a cheap recreation. It's a book for children about all-ages themes. I mean, Coraline goes in search of children's lost Souls. And she saves everyone who matters All By Her Freaggin Self (which thrilled me to no end.) It feels like reading a children's book, but after rereading The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus the other day, I was more than impressed by the calibre of children's book. I particularly liked the story about the wasps. And it succeeded in pushing me to think, "hmm...if I can work my way through a few more of the books I want to read in *my* collection, maybe I'll steal American Gods from Mom" (who received it from Dale for Christmas.) Anyway, I couldn't believe someone thought that the "child-warrior opens door into another world, encounters danger, solves danger, goes back through door" stories were overdone. We're all writing off the same myths that have been told for years. No one is creating new truth. We're just restating it, in ever more brilliant ways. Silly people.
In March, I'll see my newest myth on-stage. Woot. If you can be in NYC in March, you'll make me very very happy. Look at all the nice notice I'm giving you, too. I'm so very cool.
yes, I should never forget to take my meds. this weirdness that resembles self-esteem will fade into somthing not good. but in the meantime, I have ways of feeling better than I should. I have ways of feeling as good as I want to. and I wrote a reply to an affirmation post on sf (which I've been spending considerably *less* time at, a truth I think is good) telling my story from last night about treating myself well even when I felt undeserving and the woman who originally wrote the post responded and sounded wowed and called me sweetie, and that kind of thing just makes my day.
as does, "you are not a dork. I know. I have a book that I carry around with me and it lists all the dorks on earth and I'm afraid dearie that you just aren't listed" which Britt said to me. but I am a dork. just- a good dork. not in the mean sense I meant it toward myself. I'm a good dork, and show I will now come clean about the good-dorky project I've started ever-so recently, and hopefully everyone will be nice and pat me on the head whether they're fond of it or not because they know I'm still a little girl in progress and need love.
love back.
chord
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