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082304 12:17 a.m.
Another day of restless energy because I don't know what to do with myself. I HAVE things
I NEED to do, but I'm dragging my feet on them. I have to go and just jump into one of them
or else I'll be stuck in this cycle and I don't need another yesterday. It's just so hard
to make it seem worthwhile; to not view all my actions as meaningless from a person who just
doesn't matter. I went to bed thinking and like this, and I woke up in the same head
space. Sadly it is this sort of wheel-spinning, oh-pity-me, liar-thinking that leads me to
that first drink because it makes my life seem so pointless. It's fear talking in my ear
creating doubt that any of this will ever change; that I'll ever be happy or comfortable,
or free. That I'll find peace, a life, love, some stability in the funnel of chaos that
surrounds me. It causes me to run but it always follows and sadly running is the only thing
I know to do.
I have to go work on the self-talk, push myself to acknowledge the positive things around
me, and the positive things I've managed to accomplish and develop goals and a plan to keep
me moving forward or else I will always fall back into running and drinking and failing.
The control though, and the paralysis the fear inflicts is strong from me tending its garden
for so long. Not only do I have to stop feeding it, I have to throw out all I've known for years and
years, I have to learn a new way, I have to embrace something unfamiliar with only tenuous
strand of hope to follow. I do have days or moments on occasion where this doesn't sound
so intimidating, it's the rest of the time when it is not so positive that I can create
more messes that can make change seem unsurmountable. I have to
learn to rise above and be strong somehow when I'm the most vulnerable. Tell me please, how
do you accomplish this task when you are working with such opposites? I'll attempt to take it slow, but the liar keeps
it coming and it's not easy tuning out the constant chatter.
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11:00 p.m. There was an email from Bean waiting for me when I got home from my session
with Doc Fox. The last time I had written her a few months ago I wasn't doing too good, so
she got a lot of confused garbled stuff from the emails. I think she knew I needed to talk
to someone, only I just didn't know how to communicate with her or anyone for that matter.
It happens to me, in various shades and degrees. I lock up, close down, fall into some
heavy muck, etc. and I'm too confused to think straight let alone verbalize what's up to
someone else. I'm sure anyone that has read my journal here for awhile knows this by the
fact that I just drop off and disappear. I don't even know how to describe why it happens.
It could be that I've fallen apart, or I'm trying to put myself back together, or I'm just
trying to keep moving in hopes of staying afloat.
But anyway, after this last radio silence, I'd assumed that most likely that was it as far
as her and I for even friendship. I thought we probably wouldn't be talking again. It's
hard you see? She's known me too well for too long and there's so much history only when
it comes to me and my failures, they aren't really history. I'm still a fuck-up that has
a drinking problem and it's hard enough knowing that as of the last time we saw each other
that I was that. But it's even worse to me for her to know that maybe, not all of the time,
but some of the time, I'm still that person. I'm still this mess. I might be even more
so when it comes to my brain. We defined each others lives and now I'm not really certain
who or what I am. Things that used to be important, that were made important in being with
her no longer have to mean anything. Nothing, in my life, really has to have any meaning.
I don't do a very good job of living for myself, I work much better living for someone else.
It's perhaps one of my best and worst qualities.
You see, this email from her came at an important time since it is exactly this that I'm
struggling with. I'm trying to figure out who I am and where I'm going and how I'm going
to get there. There's a process of sorting through my history and figuring out what went
wrong, what went right, seeing how some moves set me up to land me in the place I am now,
and remembering for good or bad who I used to be. Knowing these things should help put
some perspective on the picture, help me decipher the image and draw a new map. You see
that's what I'm up against. Redefining myself. What was lost? What can I get back? What
should remain lost? I'm trying to infuse life and purpose into something that I constantly
challenge the value of. It's so wrong to think, but we do it. We find ourselves wondering
are we worth it? Are we worth putting back together, are we worth something to someone or
ourselves and is it legitimate assessment of a legitimate thing?
Strangely enough, while I can't say I was in the best headspace before my session today, I
came out of it much worse. I was pissed and depressed and more confused then I had been in
the past couple of weeks. My therapist called it "challenging me", I called it an assault of over-
generalizations due to poor listening on his part. There have been things he has been so
right about and knew I'd find out were true even before I knew, there were things he suggested
that I stubbornly resisted that I tried eventually that helped. But assailing me with the
guilt of not "getting outside of myself" to help others and "be a part of a bigger picture"
was not the pressure I needed and perhaps if he hadn't blathered almost non-stop for the
entire session I could have gotten a word or two in. He brought me to the edge of anger
where I actually had to get a bit curt and was considering walking out and then in the end
tied it up neatly saying that he had done this intentionally. The only thing I know is that
I left ready to throttle him and go get a drink, and 5 or so hours later the "lesson"
still eludes me. I especially love the guilt trip I was getting about making amends to
people because someday they will be gone since he's the one that just lost his father and
comes from a family that seems to suffer from chronic bad health. Sorry, but we are now
working in your garden, not mine. I know that death can come out of nowhere, I know it
could hit me personally, I know that we are not fricking immortal, but right at the moment
that's just a little bit too much to add to my goddamn plate. Jesus, you know it will be
a lot easier to help others out if I can talk myself off the ledge first you dumb bastard.
Fer cryin' out loud. Gosh, golly, gee, darn. Fuck, I just can't handle this. I'm already
thinking too much about everything else under the sun, and if you want to guilt me into
thinking about a couple of things I've forgotten or overlooked, then I'm only going to begrudgingly
do what you ask and resent you for it and that's not gonna help anyone in the end.
Therapy, everybody needs it, especially the therapists. They only go into the field to save
some money on spending time on someone elses couch, and if they happen to help someone else
in the process, well that's just a bonus.
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