update thing

though i can count the number of readers of this blog on my hand, i suppose a bit of an update is necessary. especially because i don't feel like sharing any writing right now.
i've spent the greater part of a week in the fetal position flooding myself in my own tears.
i keep contemplating cutting, suicide, running away.
i need to stop blaming myself, stop hating myself. i'm not weak.
i haven't showered since saturday.
i think i'm falling in love with a boy. or perhaps i'm already there. i don't know.
i don't remember the last time i had a full, uninterrupted night of sleep.
i'm on new medication.
i'm getting fat. (sort of. my perception is sort of fucked up.)
instead of driving to nowhereforever this afternoon, i went to my appointment with my therapist and had a bit of a breakthrough. i feel okay for right now.
but also anxious anxious anxious. i need to get out.
my journal is an absolute mess of sad thoughts, strange dreams, words to people i'll never utter out loud.
i lay in bed and watch movies, drink tea... but today i saw a glimpse of the future i had once dreamed a long time ago. it may not mean much, but at least i'm starting to see it again.
that means a lot to me. to someone like me. with disorders like mine that make even the next few hours impossible to imagine, see, trust, believe in.
i haven't had a sudden epiphany, and everything isn't magically in place, but i feel okay for right now.
this will probably change soon.
but that's okay.

we

weaved through aisles of food
rows of fruit, sweets, bread
he paused for a moment in the floral section
his eyes searched and his fingers plucked a single red rose
from the rows of roses
i smiled as he smiled as he handed the long piece of love to me
and we were off, weaving again
the cart grew less empty
every few suspended breaths lost in a sea of
plastic red green rosysmell
hungry fluorescent giggle limbs
rattling cart, judging eyes - teas and lasagnas and colanders on trial
breads hummus mozzarella, we ate a lot
nodded off to sleep as air played in the background and a mug cooled in a hand
cuddling isn't the worst way to spend all night and all morning
rib hello cat stretch
earl grey cigarettes silent nudges
inaudible roarous growling meowing licking animal yawns
comfortable and funny, bare and layered
wild wolves

i feel much better today, to say the least.

my boy drinking tea. his smile/expression/everything makes me smile.

3/5/11 pieces of my journal

home definitely brings out the suicide in me.

yesterday

mock sleep, mock exercise, a few
flimsy stretches, shower and stefan at easton
sunlight to make amends for my cloudy eyes,
for the haze of smoke and regret and dark
displacement, my empty self
a cup too full of coffee, my stomach wants nothing
my head, pounding - not actually pounding, but i
feel the familiar ache
like every other familiar ache
silent sculpting and an opportunity for solidity
solidarity but i throw my invisible hands
up and wait for the inevitable power tsunami,
for the orange cup to empty itself
strings of hair and broken nerves
barb said my brain is broken - the fuck
i feel sick, my physical body finally catching
up to my in-repair workshop, my self-disintegrating
system
i decide to not take a pill and my world crumbles
insides knotted, guts in the back of my imagination
a short story and a short existence
he steadily working to create, me steadily working
against all creation, all self, all time

3/22/11 pieces of my journal

3am, half naked smoking on Tomi's front door step,
welcome mat indeed, listening to and feeling the rain, a breeze,
a chill up my bare legs, thin braless tee, crouching and then standing
then crouching again, pushing air out of me,
breathing back in only to lose again
waiting for a stream of tears, for my meds to appear
or for me to appear
maybe in my bed or in someone's arms or maybe just appear to be
like the rest of them
not care about everyone not caring like the rest of them
my body is trapped somewhere...

a portion of my 3am scribbles on tues 3/22

stefan