if I'm like this tonight, how on earth am I going to survive tomorrow night and friday night? I am spinning inside myself. I've been off the phone for over an hour, and I'm still spinning. I can't believe any of this. I don't know how to prepare for any of it. as I type, I'm scared that I have my hopes up - but honestly, it's only because everyone keeps pushing them higher and higher, and all I'm hoping for is what I've already been given: this direct love that I haven't felt in so long. unhampered by distance, unhindered by time. they weren't just any group of people who supported me. they weren't wonderful relatively, by default, by simple comparison to what I'd previously known. they hit that mark and flew past it, blew past it, blew it away entirely. to see Dwight. being hugged by Dwight is like... having a planet claim you as its moon. it's gravitational, it draws you in, it makes you feel like no one in the universe is more special or feels more special than you. and he remembers me, specifically, wants to see me. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to do this. I'm in complete shock, and I suppose I'm scared of how I'm going to go 'home' afterward. it's one thing if that part falls through, and I come 'home' with the slight disappointment of a "next time." but even if it falls through - and if it doesnt?! - how am I going to come 'home'? the doctor asked me that today, and I hadn't even really thought about it; I'm so used to being exhausted at the end of trips that I find it a relief to return. but I'm thinking about it now, and I'm realizing - I'm going back in. and once I get there, I'm not ever going to want to go away. still, again. I'm not going to want to walk away. it's still out there, this place with these people still exists, and I'm going to be a part of it again - for one incredible day...be actively a part. and I'm so glad I'm stronger now than I was the day I left because maybe I'll find a way to shut my shame the fuck up and take hold of these people. maybe I'll find a way to really know they're in my life. and I'm so glad I've not yet given a rap speak. because this can't be the last time I go back, even in theory. it can't.
last night... (I told Sara the story of last night, and I said, "it's really hard for me to say this without saying something mean about it first." i.e. judgmental. the doctor talked with me monday about neurolinguistic reprogramming, a new term for me but not a new concept. it's the same as "fake it til you make it" and the basis of not saying "should" or any synonyms. the idea that our language creates our experience which creates our language. so as long as I'm calling my attachment freakish and obsessive, I'm going to have a very different experience than if I'm calling it... something else. so, of course, I'm now yelling at my brain more often. red flags have spred across the territory. and so I actually told Sara the story of last night without making a judgment about it. it goes like this.) last night, when I was going to bed, I started to think about the fact that I'm going to be there again; I'm going to be there with them. and I was just overwhelmed with the joy and the gratitude and the blessing, and all those things I thought were airy and ethereal before this. I was overwhelmed, and I remembered a handful of girls who really, really got excited about going home, going back to their families. Mainly, I remembered Dixie, and I remembered Rae. I remember the day that Rae's parents came in to take her home - the first time she'd seen them in months - and someone calling down the hallway that they were here, and seeing her literally skip-run down the hallway, glowing, this beaming expression on her face, so so happy. and for the first time, I feel like - I know what was going through her at that moment. I understand what she felt, what Dixie felt, what so many felt - despite the nervousness and the fear - when they realized they were going home. I feel like I'm going home for the first time in my life. I didn't know what I was receiving when I was admitted, and I was so overwhelmed when I came back from my one pass to my parents', I just drank it in and fell to begging permission to stay. this time, I know what I'm walking into, and it's a place of such love - I almost wish I hadn't answered the phone so I would have Sara's story of Dwight on a message to listen to again and again; I've received such an outpouring of love already this week, that I'm beyond emotion. I think I really thought I was weird. I know I really thought that. I thought that I was substantially weird, substantially needy, and substantially neglected to the point that I love them as I do. but the truth is, anyone in their right mind would. the truth is, there were a miracle, they were the best gift I ever had (and that's not for lack of gifts), they were worth every smile and every tear and every praise...and still are. You still are my miracle! You still are my world! You still are my family, my love, my Rogers, home. If I'm crying now, how will I speak on Saturday? How will I do anything but look at them, cry, throw my hands up in speechless joy, et cetera?
Last night, when I went to go to sleep... I started to feel all this, and I realized something I didn't tell the doctor or Sara; I didn't know how to say this last part without judging it. And I don't know how to share it without completely breaking down (in a good way, I guess). Last night, I realized that - this weekend - I'm going to visit the people because of whom I am alive, the people who helped me save my life; I'm going to see them. I realized that I'm going to be alive in the same room as them. I'm going to stand there and show them that, and feel that, just as the reality, no show, no magic tricks, no grand accomplishments, just... look, I'm alive. and the thought of it just swept me up into and out of myself, and I knew for certain, absolutely for certain, for the first time in my life - that it's enough. everyone deserves to get better, I want to make it better for everyone, I need my friends to heal - this is all true. but last night, I just looked at this situation and felt, it's enough. how could I doubt that it's enough? I'm alive. and it's hard for me to even say that; I think it's a bad thing to say... but it's not a bad thing at all.
I remember how important I am. I remember how loved I am. I remember how much I can love, how it feels without the longing. I honestly feel like I can fly. I'm dreaming about them at night, about them loving me. Stacy coming in after her shift at the 'contact line' to ask me what was up, and give me some reading on whatever was... Turning back to see me, when I moved a little closer to where I needed to be, out of the room I'd been in, in the right direction and began to read. Saying something like, "You're reading them right now!" with genuine surprise and pleasure. And in that room before, just looking at me, wanting to know what was wrong, just caring about me, enough to stop by after she was done. And right now, when I wake up - it's better! Right now, when I wake up, it's only better, only more amazing, only more real.
and the only way I can possibly return here is if I do something I cannot yet imagine. if I somehow show myself I'm not losing them, somehow preserve this feeling. oh, my God! to finally, finally, finally feel it. to finally know it's real and well-deserved. to finally remember cell by cell. why it changed me as it did. why I love them as I do. why it's worth hell and everything else to hang onto a speck of that love.
I couldn't convince the doctor to come with me. I guess I won't be able to convince everyone there to come with me either. and I need to come here and dye my hair blue, live with my mom, and see the doctor. but it's not going to be enough. how quickly a girl can get used to something again. how quickly she can snatch it up and refuse to let it go. how lucky am I, to have this, and again - to have it again? and how blessed am I, how loved, that I won't ever have to let it go?
I want them to sign my arms like casts with how they love me. I want their voices on cd. I want their presence, to be in it... I want to never forget this feeling. I have done a good, good thing to hold so hard to this through everything, and I'm really proud of that. Grateful. I've held onto it, even when I didn't understand why; now I want to hold onto the why. Hold onto the love, the validity of it, and never let that go.
how blessed I am, to know it, once and now again, and to know that I will recognize it when I find it, will feel it in every pore, and hold it with everything I have. there is no better gift. there is no better love. it's all ridiculous! I don't know why I'm alive except to sing the praises of this life. yes, there are still hard things to do, and I know there is pain in store on Saturday and around, but who the hell can care about that now? so something happens or it doesn't. so there's a hitch, a panicky moment, a sticky encounter. so. what.? is it even supposed to register right now? there's no wet blanket the sun itself could not shrug off.
this is the sun.
~me!