Archive for November, 2009

low, low, low

Written on November 20, 2009 by katy. 1 Comment

i don’t know how to approach. their silence, intense and compressed, living as a stone in the belly or the throat.  it radiates, it has gravity, and it tamps me down so i am slinking towards them, slow, on the ground, chest hugging stone. and even that only gets me so far. no closer. no farther.

is it weather? is it only feelings? it is somewhere we do not know how to go. except them.

can’t get towards it, but also nowhere away.  hurt beyond hurt, shock beyond shock, so stunned they can pretend not to be. sounds, smells, movement are an affront & a threat. we bring them out of the close, dark places into the brilliant, searing, unconcerned world. and my head aches, deep & low & tense everywhere. nowhere away. and my chest aches, short breath, slower and lower with each one. shaking like a background, like inhabiting a vibrating world and then suddenly removed. your frames are no good here. words are no good here, but someone told us we get at those wordless places, worldless places, better than anyone. how can we not try? but oh, how sour the notes sound, every approximation like a loud, flat horn or a wide, bright cymbal. everything’s stopped.

they are as serious as children, literal and present. any gesture to them is wrong. there is no holding and no light. no gentle touch. no casual thought.

& the hurt is low, & there’s nothing else. there’s no-one, no-one, no-one. there is no away.

self-talk

Written on November 10, 2009 by beth and matt. 0 Comments

there is an assignment we would like to do. our brain feels sleepy and unwilling. i know that insiders are scared. i also know that we might not be in the best shape cognitively for unrelated reasons. everything interacts. our body hurts.

it is okay to be scared about doing this assignment. i know that it feels like we might do badly, we might do it wrong, we might fail to properly engage with the material. this fear is here; i know we can’t just wave a wand and make it go away.

too, though, we are safe from repurcussions. the worst that will happen is we get a poor grade. no one will judge us or censure us for it. there is no shame in the way we think; it is not inherently wrong or different. it is all right to go slowly and gather up our analysis bit by bit. it is not beyond our grasp.

we are doing a lot. we are not bad because it is difficult or painful.

our schoolwork is between us and the teacher. we do not have to let anyone else know how we did. and the teacher does not disapprove of us, but even if she did, she could not hurt us. the very worst case is that we are not able to get this degree. no one will punish us. no one is allowed to hurt us. we do our best, and let go.

i’m thinking of the tao suddenly – such is the way. do your work and let go. i never thought of it as a gift. but it is. it is not just about refraining from bragging or feeling superior. it is permission. do without claiming – do and let it go. god, i never saw how freeing that was.

browsing through, looking for passages about work, i also saw the idea that great deeds start small. yes, chunking is a very known and acknowledged part of the repertoire of doing or studying things, but i can still find new meaning when i think about the tao.

so we can do a little, rest. we can do it without being conflated with what we’ve done. we can think for the pleasure of thinking, not worrying about implications, applications, grades. we can do this.

nobody in our system believes all of this.

story of my life

Written on November 5, 2009 by matt. 0 Comments

in therapy today, we talked about school. about how it’s terrifying to do our homework and how we are constantly too overwhelmed to do anything. having that conversation with my therapist always feels like a fight: she suggests that the scared kids shouldn’t be the ones doing the homework, we explain they’re NOT and that doesn’t take away the fear. i wish i could choose to just have matt with no baggage at all, or cynthia, to do the homework. i can’t. i am bound to my system, there are no breaks.

it seems like it’s definitely about fear of doing poorly. and the more poorly we do, the harder it gets, so we do even worse. i don’t know what it would be like to just think or create and not be constantly judging possible reactions and adjusting. i feel like i’ve been trying to drive down the freeway with the emergency brake on. trying to work through oh god i don’t have the energy for this anymore. sorry. the end.

not much.

Written on November 4, 2009 by we don't know who. 0 Comments

we are peeking up out of the low spot, not sure if it is safe yet. school certainly does not feel quite approachable yet. we are losing days that we shouldn’t, but that’s the whole thing. we do not have enough spoons for this. and as much as i like the thought of graduating at the end of next summer, it doesn’t actually feel possible.

maybe i could get to the end of this quarter, and then revise. i could take one class winter and spring, have six months for my internship, and then come back next year in the winter. i can’t do a full-time internship anyway. i need to talk to an advisor.

i am so frustrated with myself. i am so tired.

it will never be enough

Written on November 3, 2009 by katy. 0 Comments

body, nobody, nobody there, nobody cares, nobody. i was a person once, but i lost it. there is so little room. oh god blood would be nice, but we’re afraid we forgot how. almost did last night. took a bath with not much water so the red would be more beautiful. read instead. good boy. keep the damper shut. tight, tight. don’t let go. all your value is in your tightness.

there’s something missing lately, as usual, newly. somewhere we can’t get. we are only this much ourselves now because the time of year coincided with rejection. so close, so far. nobody nobody, nobody. my range of expression is laughable. sitting naked and cold; refusing to get warm is all our freedom. no cutting, no quitting, no dying, no moving, no running, no connection. nothing. and this, too, this isn’t working. no surprise. tight, aching, friendless, loveless, forever. why can’t we reach despair again? what is so faraway, so ridiculous, about despair?

is pressure and tightness, all unforgiving, so fulfilling? oh, i’m not fair, i’m never fair. would you be? there is no room for that stuff.