I saw that Good Charlotte "Hold On" video for the first time last night. All of the people who've lost someone, and all of the mourning with the caption "still here."
...I'm still here.
Light one candle for the strength that we need
To never become our own foe
And light one candle for those who are suffering
Pain we learned so long ago
Light one candle for all we believe in
That anger not tear us apart
And light one candle to find us together
With peace as the song in our hearts
They still haven't updated the memorial site at something-fishy; they still haven't put up Dixie's name. I wrote a Christmas card to her sister yesterday; I didn't know what I was supposed to say. How do you tell someone who's about to have Christmas without their sister to have a happy, peaceful one? How do I wish anything for them?
(...and am I awful, am I weak, am I cruel if I tell you I'm afraid that they're ok? somehow, they're ok, and I'm all alone in being crazy over this...)
What is the memory that�s valued so highly
That we keep it alive in that flame?
What�s the commitment to those who have died
That we cry out they�ve not died in vain?
We have come this far always believing
That justice would somehow prevail
This is the burden, this is the promise
This is why we will not fail!
What are you doing here? Haven't you done enough?
She loved you, Joan.
And I loved her. What am I supposed to do with that now?
Did you ever hear the riddle about the man, his boxes, and the bridge?
S-s-s-stop. I... I just want my friend back.
A man had 3 boxes. Each box weighed 5 pounds. The man weighed 190. The bridge could only support 200. How did the man make it across the bridge with all his boxes?
This is just cruel.
How did he get across, Joan?
He juggles. Yes, ok. I get it. He keeps one box in the air the whole time. Yes, I get it. What are you saying? That--that if I juggled boxes across a bridge I'll see Judith again?
Joan, the bridge is life. The boxes hold your feelings-- your love, your joy, your pain, your loss. Everyone is crossing a bridge with more weight than they can bear. So you juggle. ...Catch.
I'm carrying everything I can carry. I don't know what to do. I can't live for three people. I don't believe I can live as one, if I have to live with this. How do I not live with this, when making it un-happen isn't an option and not living has to remain not an option, too? How do I deal with it - with the one thing that keeps me moving being the one thing that could really stop me, really run me over until even as relentless as I am, I'd be done.
I'm trying, trying, trying to live. For myself. For them. Because of what's happened for me, because of what happened to them. I have to keep going because they couldn't, and I'm so angry at them for making me do this. Alone. I'm so angry at them for dying on me. I can't tell any of my thoughts; I think the opposite of everything I think. I hate the choice they made, and I know they didn't make this choice. I hate that I have to keep going because I hate that they didn't get to. I want to yell at myself for wanting to yell at them; it's all a big stupid mess. And for WHAT, damnit? So we could be thin? So we could be numb, so we wouldn't have to feel it? I know, I know it's a deep disease, and it's way serious, and it's complicated, but as vicious and destructive as it is, as HUGE as it is... it's not enough. It's not enough to justify them be going.
The doctor said he thinks they must be very sad that in order to find peace they had to take parts of other people with them. I said, who says they're at peace? What do you mean they had to take parts of people? They didn't have to do anything! This didn't have to happen. This wasn't supposed to happen.
Tell me why the thing that wasn't supposed to happen, the thing that's so blatantly, obviously, horrifically wrong is the one that happened. Tell me.
How could you?! How could you just leave me?!
You should have thought about it. You should have.
Why couldn't she see all the other choices she had?
Why? Why do I have to live without them? Why do I have to live when they don't? Why do I get to live when they don't? Don't you get how screwed up this is? Don't you understand? I told the doctor today... something I've almost never said. And he held me and I guess I felt safe enough then, to say it, but as soon as I left I felt all the awfulness pile up. I told him I wish I'd never gone to Rogers. And when I left, I wanted so badly to take it back, and I knew that he knew I didn't mean it, that I hadn't made it real by saying it, that my pain today didn't take away from everything I've said for three years. I figured I'd just leave him a message saying, "By the way, I retract that." And then the day wore on, and I just... As much as it's not true, it's too black and white, it's not what I wish... There are so many reasons it's not what I wish, and there are so many reasons it is. What I really want is not to have lost the only home I ever had. What I really want is not to have lost the only roommates I've ever had. What I really want is not to be doing this without them. What I really wish is that we could still be getting better together. What I really hate is that I'm going to have another Christmas this week, and in two months I'm going to turn twenty, while they stay stopped on their timelines at 17 and 19. I'm going to keep going, and I hate that. I hate that. I hate that I can't want to keep going because of this. I hate that I want to keep going in spite of this. I hate everything that doesn't just let me love them and live my life and not... just... be.
Have you ever watched something move off track, and understood - little by little, so so gradually - that it was getting too far away from its original spot to go back? First there's a smaller problem, then it grows, just a little, just a little more, and finally it's impossible to solve or even shoulder... That's how my life looks to me. I think about when I was in middle school - and yeah, things were already bad, there had been all of those years of pain that built the illness I was about to enter, but... my life still looks fairly common from that point. And then I look at where it goes, over the next few years, how completely off the map it falls, how completely I lose touch with all of the touch-points, all of my friends who continued on that road - that road we're all supposed to go on, that pattern life is supposed to take - and I look back and I realize, I'm never going to be able to get back on track with the "normal" people. Someday I'm going to have this under 'control', and I'm going to go to college, and I'm going to work, but no matter what I'll never be back in line with the people who didn't get extremely ill, withdraw from the world, go into the hospital, meet the most amazing people, save their lives, get ripped out of their first and best home, continue progressing anyway, lose their roommate, nearly lose two friends, watch their parents divorce, lose their only other roommate... and whatever else. There just isn't going to come a time when you can put me down next to these kids my age with their... lives... and have it look at all the same.
Tell me, does it have to be capable of being normal in order to be capable of healing? Tell me how to believe in this life at all, even if I do have it, even if I somewhat want it after all?
Tracy, d. 12-21-2001. Three years ago, tomorrow.
I--I just couldn't see someone throw her life away like that. Not again.
She didn't... she didn't kill herself.
Some people do it all at once. And some people do it a little bit every day.
I loved her.
I know. And I don�t know why that doesn�t matter.
It was supposed to be enough. It should be enough. It should make a difference, at least. ...Sara still hasn't called me. I'm in danger of screaming at her if she does, or screaming at her voicemail. Screaming, "What the hell are you thinking? What are you doing? Get back here, and get back here now; I will not lose you!" I've been trying to come up with what to do tomorrow, what great memorializing act... I've come up with nothing; how very brilliant of me. As usual, it's solstice, which means there are all sorts of invites I could grab. Let's go celebrate how glad we are for winter! ...I just can't. Once again, I just can't. I want to go to that bonfire, I want to hug those three incredible children, I want to play with them. I want to say, "That's what Tracy would want. That's what she would choose. They would want me to live. I need to live." I want to say, "I'm choosing to live even though I have to do it without them, and I'm showing that by going to this." But that's not where I am. I can't get a grip on what to do about the past or the future, about how I want my life to look or what I wish hadn't happened... The only thing that makes sense to me right now is to find Sara and tell her to get the hell back on track. Jenna. All these girls who haven't told me they're ok. To just smack them, and say what the fuck? - even though I know it's not that simple. Say, "NO! I'm sorry! I am done letting people leave! You will stay with me; you will, and you will live!"
How many times must a man look up
Before he can see the sky?
Yes, 'n' how many ears must one man have
Before he can hear people cry?
Yes, 'n' how many deaths will it take till he knows
That too many people have died?
Don�t let the light go out!
It�s lasted for so many years!
Don�t let the light go out!
Let it shine through our love and our tears.
Don�t let the light go out!
Don�t let the light go out!
Don�t let the light go out!