to set the mood: thought of today was, "I think I've felt better at funerals." although I could not come up with supporting examples, it does still deserve some recognition. I'm impressed by how awful I feel.
although I'm doing a really good job about it. (I'm kind of too pissed off that things are so bad to pat myself on the back, but I am doing a really good job with it.) I've been pushing myself to find the real feelings and feel them. (Basically this means, I say to myself at least once every day... "I think it's time to cry now" - and then I find the thought that hits a sore spot and I let go.) today would have been my third (consecutive) day indoors, and we all know that two in a row is bad for me; three could be downright lethal. so I left a message for my mom to pick up when she got off work, asking if she wanted to go out. I was the most unpleasant dinner date I can imagine, worse than I've been in a long, long while. at least I didn't yell at her. I was more in a break-down-crying sort of spot, but it's a frustration behind the tears... and although it's not toward her (so much) - that doesn't always stop it from spilling out when she's around. but no, I was just really silent, and didn't move my face much... which was especially unfortunate because we had the best waitress (she was kind of quiet - which rocked - and then she got sort of silly and sweet) and I hate thinking people might interpret my bad mood as a response to them. but what can I do? I felt icky. the good news is I went out, and I had dinner out, and that's good because although my rocking body is really good at going, "I'm hungry, damnit! I want food" I've had trouble finding the energy to fix meals. I did better today, which makes me glad. Any not-so-stellar eating has been the result of the depression/ grief combo that has me asleep and with a rather delayed appetite, but I always, always worry. maybe it's more than that, maybe it'll turn into more than that, maybe I'll fall into this as a habit and not be able to stop. no. it doesn't work that way. I've got too much of myself on my side now, too much practice doing what I need to do, a real support in my mom, and a solid promise from the doctor that I *am not* going back into that bullshit. relief major.
I'm kind of amazed that I see him tomorrow already. it has to do with being upset everyday in between. emotionally struggling, not just depressed. I'm so used to having that as I come down from the Monday appointment and then building up again for Friday that having this semi-constant "aiiiiiy!" state has actually sped the week along. strange. and my mom is off tomorrow, so I don't have to take the bus. I'm glad about that, although I think it's a good thing I got out today. not taking the bus tomorrow on top of not having been out for three days would really throw me off...
oh, and there was another waitress - I've seen her before - who looks enough like Sara, and carries herself so much like Sara, that I couldn't stop staring at her. I felt like a crazy person because I wanted to walk up to her and say something like, "Hi. Um. I just... I used to live in Wisconsin and I've been really homesick lately, and I have this friend there - she's like my best friend in the whole world, and I really miss her... and well, you just - you look a lot like her... and I was just wondering if it'd totally freak you out if I gave you a hug?" I didn't have the self-confidence to be that weird, but I did keep looking at her. Seeing all the ways she isn't Sara because obviously only Sara is Sara. Seeing all the ways she carried off the illusion. and then we walked out of the restaurant and my mom said to me, "I'm thinking we just need to teleport to another time and place," to which I mentally replied, "We're not having this conversation, right?" only to have her add, "Except I don't know where or when."
"Wisconsin, 2001," I said, immediately.
"Huh?"
"Nothing," I said, and shook my head. She made the same comment again later, and I almost, almost said to her, "Can we please not talk about the teleportation/ time travel thing, seeing as that's all I want in the whole damn world *especially* right now?" but I managed not to do so. It's not that I couldn't say that to her... but I just don't know what good it could have done. It's not like that's something I'm "keeping in" ... I've said it to a thousand people, and my mom knows I miss them like hell. she's so great to me - the very thing I'm infuriated with people for, she's started talking about, validating, and not so much apologizing as... showing me it's not true now. she said to me the other day, when things were really bad, "I see you," and honestly, I get tears in my eyes when I remember that. because right now I'm hugely frustrated by the fact that no one caught on, no one did a damn thing until I was nearly sixteen, and so sick, and needed to go to Rogers. and before Rogers, before I was sick even, no one did the things they were supposed to do to make sure my needs were met, and I could be a kid and breathe. I've been really upset about that, the why didn't you notice, why didn't you help me aspect, and she's been talking about it, too. which is ... good, somewhat surprisingly. it's made me pretty hopeless with my dad, though. because his response to that - whether I'm asking about when I was five or fifteen or just about last week - his response to "why didn't you do anything?" remains, "why didn't you ask?" which isn't fair from my dad. because you're not supposed to have to ask when you're five. you're not supposed to have to ask your parents to be the adults when you're a teenager. he should have asked how I was, instead of waiting for me to tell him. he should have quit pretending he believed me when I said I was fine in such a way that made it clear I wasn't. when I disappeared, he should have come after me. and he didn't. he still doesn't.
he left me a message yesterday, and he said he hoped I was fine. fine. what a horrible word to choose. FINE. fucked up, insecure, neurotic and emotional. feelings inside not expressed. "fine" is the code-word reply to "how are you doing?" when you understand the correct answer is, "you can't handle it, and you don't really want to know." I do want to get back in touch with him eventually; I just... I can't do it out of obligation right now. and I'd really, really like for him to just *wonder* if maybe there's a reason I'm not talking to him that isn't about him, and how abandoned he is, and how everybody hates him, etc. I'd really, really like for him to just look at the situation caring the most about *me* (and I know he loves me, disclaimer, disclaimer, disclaimer) ... do something like ask my siblings what's going on with me because he really wants to know. find out I've had a horrible week. actually remember that my birthday's sometime around now.
I know to ask for what I need. it's tricky when what I need is a parent who can occasionally intuit something. or when I need something I know, even if I make the mess of asking for, will not happen. I think I'm just leaving it alone for now.
sometimes I'm amazed that I did so much therapy-work around my mom and her influence on me... because things have changed so much and our relationship is so many billion times improved. it's occasionally hard to remember that things used to be so rotten. and then, sometimes, they still are. but seriously, I can't believe I had so much injury and anger over her. I know it was there, and real, and legitimate... but sometimes I feel like going back to an old therapist or two and saying, "actually, let's talk about my dad." not that it was one or the other. and my dad's issues were often really hidden by my mom's. and whatever, I don't want to theorize and attempt to explain this all night.
the one mom-thing that's bugging me... other than the teleportation randomness? she has to work Saturday, so she told me Friday (tomorrow) is my day. except she has one appointment in the morning. and now she has one other appointment at 12:30. (with the doctor, so who knows when it will actually begin and end.) and then I have an appointment at three. I've taken all of this in and accepted it when she comes home and says, she has a goal to get to Dick Blick tomorrow to buy these particular drawing pens she uses. that was too much. I just looked at her and said, "so... what part of the day is mine exactly?" and she said, "all of it!" and then started to remember her whole schedule. she offered to cancel, genuinely, which is a difference between her and my dad... but I don't want her to. I do find myself resenting her employment a little, which is somewhat ridiculous as I *need* her to be employed. I hate being so trapped in the house, though. and I really hate hearing her work stories. she had better coworkers at her last job; I find myself missing those stories (even though they drove me nuts as well.)
oh, but... there's this potential-possibility (how's that for uncertain) that I might end up running a writing group for kid authors at the library where she works. I have no idea if I can commit to do that (being in the week I'm in, I sort of feel like "no way") but it looks like it's really flexible, like if I decide to participate I could help determine when it starts, giving myself some time to prepare emotionally - and it'd only be one extra commitment a week, although that sort of overlooks the work outside of the meeting-time... but anyway, as uncertain as I am of how I'd effectively run a group (I've assisted before, but I've never been in charge) I think I'd really like it. there was talk (there still is talk) of volunteering and eventually getting hired as a tutor - maybe in January, maybe sooner - which (nerdy as it is) is one of my favorite things in the world. I get giddy at the thought of tutoring... so strange. gods, can you imagine me riding the buses *and* having a job? even a one-day-a-week job? don't answer that. I'm not ready to answer it yet.
progress, the doctor said. how can I not see progress? "who rode the bus here? who dyed her hair blue?" me. that was me. although it's sort of a light cerulean and gold now. but, you know...
the license plate next to ours tonight said RGR. I played around with the numbers on it, making them meaningful. incurably homesick, this girl. I need to plan another trip. maybe I'll shoot for November - try and curb the pain of the discharge anniversary. (which is not, for the record, a birthday.) maybe that's a bit far off. of course, I don't have an event to wrangle all the people for me this time, the way I did in April, so I'll need more time to get the message out that I'm coming. it makes perfect sense; my parents will understand my desire to see Sara, and they'll feel the necessity of going up in time to see Silje, who's in... Sunday! Wow. and maybe I can squeeze Dave and Brea in somehow. and definitely Stacy; I just count on the fact that she still works there. also, I have a secret fantasy that Silje, while back in Oconomowoc, will reestablish contact with Karen - who I can't believe hasn't stayed in touch with her (Karen was impeccable staff, and she and Silje were ever so close) ... and that'll allow me to get in touch with her as well. ah, fantasies. I'm also planning to write Kat, which I consider a good sign. Kat was very down-to-earth; she wasn't touchy-feely... she cared but in a very practical, serious way. (not that she was without a sense of humor. she was way fun. she just took her job seriously. as Rae said once, she would have made a really good therapist.) anyway, I think if I'm wanting to write Kat over someone like Lainie - who was around a lot more and a lot more fuzzy but sort of patronizing and ultimately more sugar than complex carbs (I can't help it; the food metaphors still. just. come) I'm maybe doing better. those people I've been busy being angry at are mainly "Hallmark people." meaning they'd be better off selling secondhand, flowery sentiment than working in the trenches of real life. Lainie is not entirely a Hallmark person. but then Lainie is attached to Rogers, so she gets breaks other people would miss out on...
I'd like to talk to Kat again; I really would. she works pool (i.e. rarely) so I haven't spoken to her this whole time. (I keep hearing Natasha Lyonne say, "I miss her"... that "She was supposed to come with me" speech... it's a thought I've had a lot lately. I miss them, I miss her. You don't know what time and place? I've got it mapped out. Oconomowoc, 2001.)
let's just do this first. this Friday and Saturday and such. and let's look into an Oconomowoc, Fall 2004. ok. I love you x infinity. (that's pretty much my night prayer. my morning prayer. my during the day prayer. my whether-or-not-I-believe-in-anything-like-God-at-the-moment prayer.) I love you x infinity.
~me