I feel like I'm going to cry. Who knew, beneath all this crankiness and illness there were tears? I've felt it for awhile now; the day started off kind of rough, depression-ish. I felt really cut off, and I spent all sorts of time here, at the computer, and I didn't feel like that was ok because my mom doesn't approve of it, and I didn't feel it was ok because what I really want is true-in-the-moment-human-connection... so I ended up feeling worn out. and then migraine set in, and whooee! it's been a glorious ride.
and, oh. I have a letter from Dave. I think. I have a note from Dave. about a week ago - (could it be less?) - I sent him the first letter, the one that was returned to me, an attempted rewrite of the second letter, which never came back; a note about what had happened, and a - (am I thorough or what?) - self-addressed stamped envelope that had little yes/ no questions written near the seal. Questions aside, the envelope was my way of knowing, whether he responded to my letter or not, that I had correctly deciphered his real address, and my letters were not going to the wrong person. So unless the post-it note visible on the inside when I hold it up to the light (every detective is at least half-criminal) was written by someone else (and if someone else got the mess of letters, why wouldn't they return them?) - I have a note from Dave. now all I have to do is open it. right. so, we'll check back in with that in about six months, when I've managed to break the seal.
when I look at it, I want to cry. it's my handwriting, and my stickers, and my stamp, but I still know that it's from Dave. and that's never happened before, and I'm still a mess from the trip, not to mention from three years ago.
it didn't take six months. I did it now. all three questions are answered yes. and all three questions wanted that answer. "so you read the letters?" (yes.) "and you're ok?" (yes.) "do I have any hope of hearing from you?" yes. yes. holy love, my chest is breaking from the feeling. believe it or not, I still forget how much I want this. need this. I still forget how badly I want to be a part of this family... and how much it means to me when someone shows me I am.
home, where my music's playing, home, where my love lies waiting, home...
so...the note... (apparently, I'm not going to write a real entry tonight, apparently I'm just going to make my way through this piece of mail bit by bit.) it's attached to a business card. with his (correct and *legible*) address... (the word that looked like Thoupus was apparently Therapies.) and his phone number. that's a major statement, I think; I don't think I'm amplifying it - I think it really is big. just over a month ago, he wasn't willing to hear from me, and now I have his number. the note says he'll write more later. and it's Dave, and even so... the crazy thing is I believe. I want it so much; I can't help hoping. and after everything I've fought through to get this much, you can't think I'll let it fall apart now. so that's what the note says. 5/24/04. My address is BLAH. David with two exclamation points. (He's such a dork when he signs his name David.) Take care of yourself. I'll write more later. And the first line... are you ready? (am I?) I like the Brave thing.
the Brave thing. I wonder if I even told him why... I'll have to tell him now. the whole story, when and why and why that name. but I think about ...how my parents and my sister reacted to it... and how my friends and now Dave have reacted, and it's so amazing to have the support I didn't get from my family (other than John.) the other day my mom called me Mary Brave. that was tres weird. cool, I guess, but weird. not as cool as the doctor saying it - because with her I just feel like Mary, and because my Lastname heritage is becoming more important to me as Mary and Mary Brave become more firmly rooted. at some point, I'll be safe enough in myself to return more to the good parts of my original-family. in the meantime, my mom the other day, my brother in his liner notes, my doc, and now Dave have all used it. and if I haven't told him, he can only sort of know what he's affirming, but... he still did. "I like the Brave thing." we'll see what he says when he knows the whole story, but translated based on my connotations (i.e. amplified perhaps unfairly) he roughly said, "I like everything you've done, everything you are, and everything you've become since I met you." that is, after all, "the Brave thing."
I am so having that transgenetic family [re]union. oh, the little happies fluttering through me right now. I was going to talk about unhappy things, like money... and try and prepare a little for the fact that Marybeth is coming over tomorrow even though I'm not entirely steady; she's staying for the weekend, she'll want to spend time with just me (scary! no matter how much I love you, scary!), plus my room is still trashed (I couldn't really *move* for most of today) and I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow. oog. I wonder what on earth we'll talk about. agoraphobia? the Dave letter? the parental legends? strategies around having company? relationships? or why I feel sad?
there hasn't been a strong theme this week, although I could probably pick one if I tried. and I decided yesterday I want to get back into my five out of seven days routine: that five days out of every week (or more) I make it out into the actual world. and this time, I want it to be more than a walk. I want to either spend a small amount of time in a highly-scary situation (like at a store or grabbing lunch) or a longer amount of time in a situation where I'm surrounded by (but don't have to interact with) other people. (the lack of interaction makes it much safer.) the hardest thing about this, practically speaking, is finding things to do and places to go when my mom isn't around. it'll take some work. and I'm glad it's only a goal and not a mandate because it has to have some flexibility. not flexibility for me to abuse - but for me to maintain (the remains of) my sanity.
anyway, I think it's funny that I have a goal I want to commit to... I honestly think I would have gotten to that even if he'd never mentioned goals. I may have gotten to it faster, had that conversation been bypassed. but that's ok. we still have to discuss some of what went wrong that Friday - not because it's messing with our relationship, we're ok, but because those factors play into my other relationships also. maybe that's what we'll discuss tomorrow. we can delve into the ever ponderous question: "why is it that when you act 'like Dave', I want to pound you, run away, and never speak to you again ... but when Dave sends me a post-it in the mail, I feel like life's worth living?"
not because he sent me a post-it. just... because the post-it reminded me of the very best part of my life. these people. and no matter how very grey an area he's in, Dave is one of these people.
I'm still stunned every time I realize... we saved my life. We're still working at it, of course - but when it hits me how far I've come... I can't believe we saved my life.
~me