Written on May 29, 2003 by claire.
my world thrums around me steadily, and parts of the rhythm start to be reassuring, where they’ve been depressing. i am trying to learn to hang on, to let go, to experience. steady, finding bits and pieces to savor, navigating determined through the crowded icy waters, just going on.
this week we are looking for how to connect with our body, part of the saga of learning to be with ourselves, to be still. i am thinking how words have always comforted, immortalized, and distanced us from all that we feel. i am thinking about my body and my feelings – not refined feelings, not words, not depression, not actions, but the original forms, the unutterable sensations – and admitting that i still don’t quite want to be there.
Continue reading ’soon observed what followed on’
Written on May 26, 2003 by kat.
the greasy heat and sweat of outside does not follow me here. here the mist cleanses and is darkly cool on my forehead, my hands. i have no trouble seeing in the twilight, but in the days since yesterday, the noon hour has been growing longer. i wonder if the shore we’ve headed to will be lighter. what that means. i can see it already, from cynthia’s flash of foresight. sand, a winding path through the dunes. rocks, a web of tide pools. forest, grass. my heart dares to beat hopefully, as we journey towards the coast. we are headed a day’s walk north of port city, along the coast to the northwest. but we are not there yet. we are in the forest, in the twilight, and i wonder if we are headed the best direction.
Continue reading ‘‘n glyn’
Written on May 25, 2003 by nymph.
i can’t get clean, i found out. washed hair, washed everything. and it made no different. so i wonder what this whole stupid thing is? ugh, stupid, stupid.
who am i, all over the place, old, young. i wondered at the login myself. i want this sweat off my skin, this grime. it is such a common thing that except for itself it barely bothers me – how normal, to feel endlessly unclean.
except i only really feel that way because i haven’t been literally, clean. two showers a week is not enough, no matter how many baths, so just shut up. and let go of the dumbness about this.
Continue reading ’still dirty’
Written on May 25, 2003 by cynthia.
in these rooms we are transient, controllable, separated. i wonder where the real door is. wonder how this time we will get free. we could build something new, as they said, our own house, our own castle. i think about the loneliness of a vast forest, nobody but ourselves. i dream of living in the city in the sky, where there are so many people and so much finery. but one can’t get there from here. only mirror-jumpers can. we could go south to the ocean and establish a village for ourselves. embrace the domesticity of what feels safe. but all these things first require freedom. and i wonder what is stopping us. but the door is locked. someone, someone, succeed. open the door. i know there is someone who can.
Continue reading ‘the effort’
Written on May 25, 2003 by katy.
i am dirty with sleep and days, broken, bowed under. this is not a way to live, this fear, this skirting, breath stinking, hair greasy and sticky. the acidity of water is no excuse. but each day passes and there’s no strength, tomorrow, tomorrow. we need to buy conditioner, anyway – baths will take away the worst of sticky skin, but not this awful, greasy, itchy hair.
and conditioner involves a ten-minute walk out in the open. and when the shower is so acid, when it sprays burning down on our hallicunating skin, why risk the open for conditioner? last night even the bath felt burning. but was this what i wanted to write about? it jumps to mind, the cause and source of all our distemper.
Continue reading ‘dirty’
Written on May 24, 2003 by cynthia.
i am sitting here in the safe place that we made for me. i have green cushions and soon, in four days, i will have a recliner- a big, fuzzy, green one. it seems like it will be very very nice. i already have curtains, now, and they are light brown and i think they are beautiful. they look like silk, though they are not, they are polyester. everything here will be brown or green.
Continue reading ’skirting internal safety’
i find that lately, i have trouble connecting online. i haven’t written to my neglected list in ages. i just haven’t had it in me. i don’t mean to be neglectful.
but life is really shaping up, i think. i am making leaps and bounds in my healing, and productive therapy sessions, and i’m working on this safe space – all of these things for Me and it feels good. this space is like a present to myself, coiniciding with a year free of si! and it’s amazing to do something for ourselves of this calibre. we ended up finding a chair and it should hopefully be delivered on the 28th. we will take pictures, because we are just making this space better and better. and there will be a bigger entry about that.
right now i am just writing to talk of not writing. but i’m not in a bad place. i think we’re doing good.
Written on May 22, 2003 by cynthia.
we got the sims superstar expansion, which explains our quietness here. i should post screenshots, it would be fun. i am playing with two main families right now – one with nymph (who is trying to be a star), me, and claire – sort of a fronters’ household – and one with kerry and a kittie she named sweetie. kerry is superfamous, because we’ve mostly been playing her.
Continue reading ‘laugh with rage’
Written on May 21, 2003 by sg.
written on the clie, though not out in the world. uil.
aeryn had me grating cheese for the enchiladas they’re making. for whatever reason, we didn’t really want to be doing that – we have been so anxious lately. and so we got scared, but got stuck in this place of feeling like we had to do it, had to grate the cheese, at all cost. and aeryn saw us freaking out about it and gently led me away from the cheese. i just couldn’t stop panicking that she would hurt me – she wouldn’t let me do the chore anymore. and i remember how mom used to get disgusted when we didn’t do a chore with enough graciousness, and then she wouldn’t let us do the chore at all. and i wonder what the repercussions of that were, besides just her anger. to make us so scared.
Continue reading ‘you’re not a cop-out either’
Written on May 20, 2003 by claire.
what happened last night was so big, i can hardly think about how to accurately describe it. it seems like it was such a little moment, just another fifteen minutes of emotion. and aeryn says they’ve seen us do it before, but i don’t remember it being so sharp, so strong, so undeniable.
what was it? i just believed, for fifteen minutes, i knew with all of me that it was real. what i’ve come through, the ritual abuse. i was reading old journal entries from ‘99 and was struck with authenticity, and i was wandering in my mind, thinking perhaps all that happened was an inconsistent, emotionally abusive mother, and a couple of years of sexual abuse from the man she married when i was two, divorced when i was four.
Continue reading ‘in the really real world’
