why are we not cutting?
1. for aeron
2.
Continue reading ‘bleh’
Archive for April, 2004
i want to acknowledge that in part, this whole fiasco has been about needing to sabotage school. to acknowledge that we felt wholly trapped, that there seemed to be no options – and we didn’t try harder to speak partly because we really haven’t been able to keep up with school. as always, we never have a problem with the content – but showing up to class every day, trying to be persuasive with homework assignments, being in a place to convince others of our knowledge… it’s just too much, and things have been falling apart for a long time now.
Continue reading ‘twinkling in every lung’
lips glued shut, i want to offer you words and my throat burns. quiet, careful. today, yesterday, i can more or less type. the handful of whispers from yesterday, starting when the doctor addressed me, burn in me. must be atoned for. gestures are circumspect. i wonder how many words i can get away with typing, like this, expressive. so far i’ve typed as much as i have in all the days since sunday. double this and i’ll be a veritable chatterbox.
there are still words in my mind. they don’t always intrude. they gather like schools of fish in certain situations, beating at the inside of my head. i seal my lips shut, try to breathe through my nose so they will dry together. but i don’t breathe very well through my nose.
i wonder how many times i can win sympathy by saying, this is the most i’ve said. i hate myself already. my god, i’ve ruined my life already, with silence. but i crave words, especially words like this, especially journal entries. i want someone to see and care and magically fix me. i talked to aeron a little yesterday. in whispers. it hurt to, and today my silence washes over me again like it never left. except, this is me pushing it, a glutton for punishment, here are my words for the week.
yes, i am angry. yes, it is not ok. yes, i refuse to submit. you take away my possessions without my permission, my right to choose, i won’t hear you. i won’t see you, won’t respond, won’t eat your food, won’t share your room. and if you think you can stop us, you are just stupid. you will pay and i won’t back down and that is just it. i am angry that you can keep us to this tiny room but i’m damned if i’ll go out there where you’ll think you’re forgiven. not that you’ll bother to see these words, anyway. i am on my own. nothing new, there, nothing to speak of.
so, i can’t play the game, maybe i’ll at least get homework done. life goes on. but you can’t stop me from cutting. not forever.
quiet, quiet, quiet, quiet. don’t let them notice, don’t draw attention, don’t look like a baby. take care of yourself. don’t gain weight. be quiet. be pure, pure, white as a lily, lily white, lily. don’t draw attention to yourself, yourself. you’re going about it wrong. you’re eating too much. be quiet, don’t bother them with words.
Continue reading ‘cruise these streets where my innocence hides’
it’s a morning; i’m at the bus stop. waiting to go to school. last night i got as far as here and realized i didn’t have my wallet, no bus pass. so i walked home again. and that seems to be how this quarter is, how my life is shaping up again, abortive attempts. halfway there. nothing real or lasting.
the house has been filthy for a long time. it’s two faults; aeron usually does this, but i never do. so who should be expected to take up the slack? neither of us do, and there are no dishes to eat from, no way to have food. i think we must be depressed. maybe both of us. or maybe it’s just the game; it’s expected that we both play that when we get up, until we go to sleep.
Continue reading ’sometimes i know that it’s never enough’
we’re dreaming about anger, heated exchanges, yelling back and forth. night before last it was our mother, and we got into a screaming match, and the details are lost but the intensity is startling and hard to shake. her anger, ours. estrangement. i don’t know. a lot of stuff. and last night it wasn’t the mother, but someone else with such hatred, she tried to kill us. pushed us into a wall made of aquariums, so that the glass shattered and exploded into us, shards, and they held us there and glued our eyes shut, accidentally getting glue on our finger and thumb as well. the glue had the property of bonding skin together, so we were blinded and lost the opposability (and usability at all) of our right thumb. and index finger.
Continue reading ‘’tis true, ’tis pity, and pity ’tis, ’tis true’
today i have to: drop off my signed offer letter, get the article i’m supposed to have read by 10am from reserve on mchenry library and copy it, get my spring sticker for my id, buy my book for semantics II, go to class, and go to office hours to let the teacher know about my disability, as per the recommendation of the disability resource center and aeron, er and obviously read the article…
by tuesday i have to do the first homework, including a summary of the first reading. our bills are overdue. i haven’t gotten my financial aid check yet. the house is a pigsty. kids are feeling abandoned and scared, and we don’t have a therapist. easter is in ten days. we’re barely on speaking terms with our mother. our agoraphobia has been pretty bad. our anxiety has been through the roof.
Continue reading ‘my gosh, is it any wonder i’m overwhelmed?’
