Written on March 31, 2005 by olivia.
There is something in singing which is like beauty, or blood. It can be smooth, deeply colored, severe, life-giving, musky, like blood. Can it not? There is great censure in my upbringing and what I know my former compatriots are saying. I am charting new waters, exploring ventures I was not prepared for. I am no expert. Can you understand the deep shame in that small, inoffensive statement? At any rate, I continue to pioneer. Claire and Liza say that frankly, they like me.
I can’t recall ever being told that before.
there is something that wants to say itself. or feel itself? or just be.
we’re afraid we have to be good and strong. we don’t let things in and then we worry because there are no things. i create this intimacy with people where i feel like things are possible. if it would not be misunderstood, i would say false intimacy, because the place it comes out from is a desperate place. is it best to say no, later, just wait?
i think the problem is only that we keep saying that to our selves so often that they realize we never mean to return.
okay. therapy this evening. is there anything we want to say to her? how do we want to use our time?
the issue was raised in group that we should let her know just how and why we have such giant trust issues with professionals in general. doctors … trust. breathe. it’s all right. the Way will bring us to what we need to come to. is it all right with everyone in the system if i say stuff like that? if i believe? i don’t need everyone to believe, not at all. religion and philosophy is such a personal thing. i don’t know. this language is new and weird. mostly i was just talking to myself.
Continue reading ‘therapy notes’
Written on March 29, 2005 by olivia.
I created this login shortly after returning from the hospital, but I have never yet used it. I suppose there are difficulties. There is the question of who I am; there is the issue that I have never done anything like this before. Skin is the only canvas for expression that I have known. How shall I determine what to say?
I am denied what I know. So in composing any piece of writing, I am like a child; I feel foolish, and reticient to show this foolishness. Is that why I have been reluctant to show this to the world? I was taught that one only shows one’s best, most statuesque face to the world at large. I could slip into a derisive shout, and John would say that that is not a best face, not a courageous face, I think, but it is a layer of distance that was shown to me to be acceptable. It’s not mine, in general, for there were not intended to be female voices that were audible. But I learned how to do it, and it would be more comfortable than this.
Continue reading ‘you don’t owe me anything’
is it safe? do things feel better because we never have to see her again?
is that even true, don’t make promises you can’t keep…
okay. now that we have minimal contact with her. now that we know she’s a narcissist. now that we won’t ever ever ever see her alone again. now that you have seen these things for a year, can you begin to trust? if you can’t i understand. but this easter, can we let ourselves love ourselves? can we refuse the blood toll? can we just be sad, not mad at ourselves? have we come far enough?
do you see any scabs…
no. thank you so much. is there anything we can do to help on this day? is there anything anyone needs?
Continue reading ‘don’t come alone’
Written on March 26, 2005 by beth.
i’m getting a sense of what loss really is like, tonight. this easter discomfort feels like it would be eased with a name, so we’re looking at old journal entries, looking for names, looking for what. because we know it came to us before and then slipped away. we never wrote enough to remember by (on purpose?) but the journal has other sad things. thinking about how it would be if matt had never died. how many kinds of ends were begun that night he slipped away. how much i want to go back, how much we’ve tried to undo. how that was really the night we lost dani/kaleidoscope house. we lost matt, and chris. we used sad months on a frenzied anorexia bout. we lost our vitality and life in so many ways that night. and it’s a sense of… life goes on, life is not unlovely, but that will always be a bumpy scar. and who even knows what life would look like if it had not happened.
Continue reading ‘how sorry i am’
Written on March 26, 2005 by cynthia.
i’m sad because there is no game. it seems like we’ve played everything that’s out there and nothing is fun anymore. it makes it really hard to get through the day.
except ddr. that is really fun. but we can’t do that for hours on end! it’s the same with the sims 2. it’s really fun but if we do it all day we get bored of it. (we don’t get bored of ddr just tired.) i’ve been doing so much ddr that i weighed myself to see if we lost any weight but we are still the same weight. but i don’t really care.
Written on March 22, 2005 by lily.
im fraid people will be mad at me. i been such a bad girl. we saw nother multiple journal (scribe help me with spelling) and they wroted all of thems got to wroted. we used to do that. we gots so many logins for like 30 people from our system and like we only use bout 4 of them.
so i am writing along with scribe/someone/katy/person to help me to make it not be “little speak” because that is kind of annoying for some people and i dont want people to be mad at me. but i still dont like postrophes and stuff. we are compromising. (that is a big word.) but claire says people will be “affronted” from its without postrophe so i will write “it is” instead.
Continue reading ‘ok it is me lily’
Written on March 18, 2005 by claire.
am i ashamed? is that it?
Written on March 16, 2005 by katy.
shaky, tonight. trepidation, anxiety. therapy tomorrow, with our new therapist (bridges have been sealed off with yellow caution tape, although not burned.) there is all of that: what to say, whether to ask for what we need, which is two 80-minute sessions a week. (she said she could, but there is fear, especially about finances. it is very difficult for us to ask for anything.) multiple group also tomorrow, with new members, which is good (very good), but also makes the group a little scary. now there are five others to judge us. and it’s the season for many survivors to be having a hard time – oh, it looms. lily, the weathervane of the season, is breaking down, is gibbering. (can one gibber not with rage? yes, they must, because she does.) and writing seems impossible, this whole year. how the year is flying, march already! but i’m writing. maybe someone should have been the login. it’s not always quite my katy-self who needs to write here. (i am both. if that wasn’t clear.)
Continue reading ‘video essay: butter sauteed mushrooms’
