Archive for January, 2008
i am full of thoughts this morning. i worry a little about writing, about having time, because i want to go to the gym before class. but i think i should let go and write. i need a lot of letting go. for instance, treating my decision to drop the class as over, made, and remembering not to regret it. i’m scared, i want to backpedal, but every time i think that the panic comes back. i need to learn to accept. to remember that however i choose to live my life is okay, is the right way to live it. that there will be time. that somehow, it will work. i do worry about paying for school if it takes too long, but i’ve already decided i’m willing to get as many loans as it takes.
Continue reading ‘all the little fishes are flapping wildly on their hooks’
it is me i am CRICKET. and things are safe here. no one is allowed in. no one can sneak up behind me. even if peapole tell on me, it does’nt matter becose this is my room and no one is allowed in. mommy is not allowed in and she is not in the state. mommy does’nt know anything to tell on me about and even if she did the others ca’nt reach me eether. i do’nt even HAVE to go to bed if i need to stay up all nigt to make sure it is safe. mommy would need a 20 hour drive to reach me. maybe more, i do’nt remember. aeron and indigos are the only ones with a key and both of them have to knock and not come in if i say so and both of them have to stop if we say stop. there are bars on the windows they ca’nt they CA’NT get in!!!!! i wish i could beleive myself.
screw it. i’m clearly not getting anything done tonight. here is me officially giving up on the homework attempt (i say this like i’ve tried. i did a little this morning, but none since 1:30.) here is me writing.
maybe if i write, there would be something. there sure as hell isn’t any homework getting done, nor does that seem like a possibility anymore. i have a slight breath of hope, letting that go, even though i know i am fucking up my life considerably by not doing it. compassion helps a little. i would do this if i could, truly i would. i’m not just looking for ways to get away with being lazy. i think about the shape of my life, and try to remember there are ways out, no matter what. if it turns out i can’t do this program this soon, i can meet with someone or other and ask to defer my acceptance. there always has to be a way.
our brain won’t go clean to where we can think, and we can’t do our homework, and it is due incredibly soon, and we are really scared. we lost it all. we don’t want to start at the bottom again. we have worked so hard to get to an okay place, a functional place. now we just can’t and no one cares. there are insane stupid horrible people i want to kill inside that just keep acting like if things get bad enough, someone will save us. i know there is no such thing as rescue. i want to kill myself for being so stupid. but i can’t seem to get outside of myself enough to proceed with my life. i can’t think. i just can’t think, and no one believes me and no one cares. it’s not very far from this place to actively trying to die, but i know that even that won’t make anyone care, it won’t make anything better. there is nothing, and it feels like there will never be anything again.
can’t. just can’t, CAN’T! i’m lost, i’ve lost it entirely. i keep wondering if there would be some way of salvaging life if i just dropped out. i should have given myself a break. i got a BA! but there is more, and more, and more to do and i can’t, i can’t. the entire landscape has changed, i have nothing, i have nothing. my fingers don’t move right, i am slow, i can’t quite see. sometimes on my scooter i realize that the world is going past in a daze, and it’s just a damn good thing that i go the ways i go so often, because i barely need to see. i barely see. it works out.
i was so ok for really so long, so many days in a row, the peace didn’t leave, not to an intolerable degree. i am still ok, i’ll be ok, i haven’t tumbled into unmitigated pessimism. but i’m not ok, i’m not ok, i’m not not not. i cannot stay grownup or functional. i cannot stay calm and careful of myself. i cannot do homework, i cannot refill my prescriptions, i cannot reach out, i cannot wrap myself up in myself either, i cannot be content. i can’t find my voice.
oh, it is a cruel, cruel thing to need social contact. it’s an ugly, ugly place to be, all out of antidepressants, all my pride lost through reaching out rewarded with silence or at best, kind refusal. oh, it has been a while since i’ve fallen this far. since before i was this alone, certainly. back when there were people who actually wanted my company. oh i want to keen publicly about how i hurt, but i have bitten my tongue this far. i can keep on. but oh, why won’t anyone let me cry at them? except the one, who just gets mad at me for being too considerate of others.
i keep wondering if there are words to say, and then i go, and look, and there aren’t. or maybe the act of looking brings the wrong person out. maybe the shadow of inspiration cannot twitch the typing fingers, and needs another format. maybe lots of things. i suspect there is a lot to do with who comes out when we start to write. often it is matt, and he realizes that he has no more to say now than he did two hours ago. it was not him who had the words. but there is something automatic about the shift, something about writing for an audience. sometimes we feel pretentious and stupid if someone else uses their own style. too conspicuous, even as a whole, if someone else is there.
