Written on November 30, 2003 by kerry.
there is homework i should be doing, but i am taking a rest today, i guess. at this point, all i want to do is finish. so my day stretches out in front of me. i am trying to enjoy the weekend because tomorrow i have to make a million phone calls: two to the pdr’s office (set up an appointment and tell them long’s didn’t get the prescription), but long’s i should call first to see if maybe they got the prescription finally, and then i am supposed to call del amo to find out if they are still running the program and everything during christmas and all of that. and there’s probably other things i am forgetting.
i’ve been really depressed this weekend – too bad the zoloft i was prescribed hasn’t even gotten a chance to get started yet.
Continue reading ‘get into the groove’
Written on November 28, 2003 by renee.
i’m feeling sad and unloved tonight, so i guess i’ll try to give myself some words, some sanity. i finally took our old friend off of our friends list tonight. that was hard to do, because it always feels better to us when we are in danger or a bad situation to know what is going on. so it’s really hard for us to just walk away and not see, not know. but this person put a mean thing in their journal, a really really immature thing, i’m sure it was intended for us, and took us off as a friend from all their accounts. like they have to make the point that it’s them leaving, not us. and i know it shouldn’t but it hurts, it does, just an old sore ache.
what really drained me these two days was seeing my mom. for some reason i got really really allergic thursday morning and was miserable with allergies all yesterday, and today wasn’t great either.
Continue reading ’sometimes it’s too much to be healthy’
Written on November 25, 2003 by renee.
i’m having a hard time staying positive this morning. last night we stayed up really late and talked to the chimera and vivid dreamers – and felt so good. thinking how very much we love and care about all of them, and how we could talk honestly even when we have been so out of touch. thinking about polly too, and jilly, how we really do connect with people, how heart-deep these things are and they don’t go away. thinking we weren’t such a social failure after all. or such a failure at life. talking to them touched such a very deep place in us, and we just floated into bed at the end of the night.
but this morning i feel crushed and foolish. i don’t know what to believe about myself. there’s a journal entry that we weren’t meant to see, but saw. and i have been quiet about it because i felt really guilty when i read at the end of it that we weren’t meant to see it. but it’s really not our fault that we saw it; we were just reading our friends page in livejournal.
Continue reading ‘crushed’
i sent the chimera my entry from a couple of days ago, the one i can’t publish, the one that has so much realness. i feel so very stupid. i am shaking so fucking hard. i know with a part of me that they are safe and they are ok with reading it and they don’t mind hearing me, i feel this giant need to tell tonight and so i’m telling.
fuck, i am shaking. i am turning to words as always, always.
today was good, although we’ve been woefully neglectful of school (skipped again). we painted a lot. we’d been doing exercises from the watercolor teaching book we got at about quarter size, and today for the first time we got the truly right kind of paper, the 300 lb., and painting was magical. even the horrid wet-on-wet exercise we’re having so much trouble with: 
we also went out with aeron, on the bikes, and took care of some money errands. sent the rent and paid our two credit cards off about 2/3 of the way. and then, went out for sushi! (yay.)
Continue reading ‘wet on wet’
Written on November 24, 2003 by claire.
a tired morning. school is wending its way shut, this half-week and one more, then finals. i’m scared because i feel so very unprepared to show off what i’ve learned. have i learned anything? because of a stupidness with syncing the computers, i somehow lost all my supermemo data – and stupid me, i never backed it up. so who’s to say i’ll even do well in greek? i’m depressed to start over. i still need to fix the computers so they can sync again at all. and so much data, lost. the finals are creeping up, baring ugly teeth. i hope i’ll be okay. in three weeks i won’t have to worry about it anymore. it’ll be over. (instead, in three weeks, i’ll have to be worrying about whether to try to go to the hospital, how to get myself there, too many fucking decisions.)
Continue reading ‘dithering’
Written on November 23, 2003 by claire.
i woke up depressed yesterday. i’m getting new glasses, because my old ones finally broke irreparably, and i went in on friday to the place. i wish i had gone somewhere else; it was a terrible experience. but i won’t go into it. the glasses were supposed to be done so i could pick them up on saturday, but when i called yesterday they said they weren’t finished, and the lab person wasn’t working that day. jesus! so i just had to revise all of my plans for the day, and not see for even longer (i haven’t been able to see since monday!) and i just felt so depressed.
but i did my best and decided to make a nice dinner (a long time ago we decided with aeron that we, the myriad, would try to cook once a week… this is the first time we have!) so we browsed in cookbooks and biked to the store to get a butternut squash.
Continue reading ‘covers the city with its sparkling skin’
my past threatens to reach up and choke me, tonight. i wonder what is real. if dani thinks they’ve been ritually abused, why should i disbelieve them? if i disbelieve them, why should i believe myself? if i believe myself, then how can i believe my brother is so safe? i know that he has another family, and that is good. but there’s still so many rapids to navigate and i wonder why i would choose the one i’ve done, the one that seems to me most selfish of all.
oh, elan is safe. oh, dani is just making this up, stole the identity from me. and oh, woe is me, i’ve been hurt so terribly, hurt in every way. how can that be true? i feel like i must be a drama queen. my sense of reality is so fragile and scraped. i know how mom must feel in her gut when i tell her these things about me; i feel that way when i hear what dani is thinking. so what makes me believe my own self? what is so fucking wonderful about me?
Continue reading ‘another space of silence’
Written on November 20, 2003 by claire.
(the title lyric should be imagined screamed by sleater kinney with loud guitar, as with the “i don’t owe you anything” of a couple of days ago.)
this anger surprises and scares me. it is overwhelming. it is new and strange. and yes, i know i’ve been having firsts with anger for months now, and maybe it’s not really as new and strange as it seems… but i think it comes and goes in little waves, and each time i forget.
i am so mad at the tv lately, i just want to hurt it when i think about how my money is going to cable so aeron can be a zombie all the time and not there for me. i know it’s not really about the tv (although i really hate how much the tv is on in our house.) i know it’s more about needing support, and needing aeron to be there for me, and resenting them for not having the strength. for them, just sitting and talking to me is way too boring, the vast majority of the time – they need to be entertained with tv or video games.
Continue reading ‘i’m not part of you’
Written on November 19, 2003 by beth.
i don’t know what to say. i wonder if we need our privacy. i wonder what we’re gaining from having an open journal. because i spent an uneasy night with a headful of terrible things, and my fingers are frozen to get it out. i am so full of fear, and self-hate (although, to read four-year-old journal entries, i realize how very far i have actually come), and tiredness.
it is hard enough to be afraid because of the terror and horror of the memories, but i have nowhere to talk about it. feel the fear and write anyway? how can i, what if someone finds out, i’ve so much fear, no one will believe me they’ll get me they’ll get me. i don’t remember what the openness was about. i don’t remember pride, the personal-is-political, we will show the world and make no apologies.
Continue reading ‘bloody hard when i’m raw’
