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enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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My heart slowly starts to heal. I'm bored already with the self-indulgence of my feelings in the last 24 hours. I bore myself. It's time to move forward on a more positive course.

Let me preface this by telling you that I deleted every email that I ever received from L as well as every photograph. It was about time. Let true freedom begin now. And after writing all that comes below I feel so much better. I can see how writing is good therapy. It's about finely drawing out and gradually rewriting one's own narrative that one takes forward. I'm grateful that I took the time to do this.

****

It's early in the morning and I haven't slept and what I've written below is more self-talk and therapy than of interest to anyone else. It's not worth reading.

But the good news is that I think I've talked myself out of my stupidity. I'm getting the hang of saying "WAIT! You're doing the same negative thing again. Learn from it!"

I'm well. I think I'm more well than I thought I was. Every day is a challenge but I'm up for it.

You know, sadly, I've been thinking a great deal about people who commit suicide lately. Whenever I hear the story of some person who has killed him or herself I think, "There but for the grace of god go I."

And you know I don't mean that literally. But I've walked a fine line for a long time and I've always tentatively understood that I could go in that direction if not careful. I've not actually entertained thoughts in that direction since I was thirteen. And I don't now, truly I don't. But there's a part of me that understands despair. I truly understand despair.

Actually, despair is not the word. It's a lack of control. It's a feeling of powerlessness to keep the truck from careering forward and over the edge and into the abyss. If you can't find the brakes you can't temper the strong emotions that otherwise are such a powerful tool for good.

Sensitive people are useful people. The world needs them as well as others. I've always known that I am such a person. Even when I was little I instinctively knew that I needed to hide my reactions from other people as they would be frightened by them. And I've always known that sensitive people make themselves suffer--both because they need to feel and because they need to hide.

I've talked to a number of counselors over the years. And only one ever helped me in any appreciable way. I'll never forget what he said to me, so different from the usual lines: "It's a gift. I view the feelings that you have as a gift. Other people miss the dark but they also miss the subtle, beautiful things that you only get if you can visit a certain frequency."

And I do subscribe to the idea that our brains, our hearts, our chemistry are ultimately a tool kit. If we're lucky, such as I am, we can study and understand patterns and catch ourselves before we crash. Because we have memories. We know how things turn out after the crisis has passed. And we can remember the great joy and absolute wonder at the tiniest things that we've felt before--moments of a kind of bliss.

I don't think I've ever said such a thing out loud before but whenever I hear that someone has killed him or herself I feel great, great pain and great, great empathy for that person. I think I can begin to imagine the horrible weight that they bore, how hard they fought, and how like an avalanche it all finally cruelly picked up and suffocated them. People who kill themselves often have built lives, exerted tremendous energy. They've fought and fought in ways that people around them have been at a loss to understand. I actually don't buy the old line that suicide is a selfish act. I believe that people who kill themselves are often highly unselfish people. From my experience with suicide I think that they've exerted far more effort than most people can imagine, and often for other people. My guess is that they simply cannot push back at the tidal wave any longer. I only hope that ultimately they find a bit of peace.

The mother of one of my closest friends growing up killed herself. And I remember the see-saw battle that she fought through my friend's childhood. And the fight that my friend--who has a very even temperament--battled out with her father for his attention. And how her father, in spite of his most concentrated efforts and unwavering devotion, could not save her mother.

A person's nature is the most difficult thing to fight.

So N loathes it when I get anxious, as a result of her life experience. Quite understandably. And I try hard to hide it from her. I would never want to cause her more pain. And I'd never tell her that every time I think of her mother I think of how important it is for those somewhat similarly constituted to fight for those such as her who fought the battle and lost.

Do you remember that fake letter supposedly from GG Marqu3z that circulated a few years back? Well I'm thinking at the moment of a line from that: Each minute in which we close our eyes we lose 60 seconds of light.

My apartment is getting bright. It's morning. And I'm exhausted from lack of sleep. I feel bedgraggled, my heart hurts with fatigue and that after-the-adrenaline ache as the muscle releases. A heart is only a muscle, after all.

I like the idea of thinking of my heart as a muscle. If you break down your body into its component parts and visualize them functioning it is very grounding, I find. :) I can see my heart in my mind's eye, pumping like a sinewy fist. Not MY little fist, of course, but a big tendon-y one. And the blood pushing itself in and out is a steady surf.

And if you focus in even on your big toe you can feel the blood flow there, too. And you can feel your skin working hard to cool itself, too, if you apply great concentration to the task.

****

Earlier therapy.

Whatever I write at the moment will probably be idiotic, as I've had exactly 2.5 hours of sleep and my heart is racing...

I think that I've effectively had an anxiety attack over what shouldn't have been a surprise, and over that irrelevant person who shall from this point forward never be mentioned again.

There seems to be adrenaline pumping through my heart.

It has been a rough week, a rough few months, to be sure. But there is a positive to spin to put on all of this:

I'm recognizing and confronting--finally--the profound weaknesses in my thinking and in my approach to the world that need to change. I've figured out that my way of thinking about myself does not==a healthy life course.

Lying awake in my bed just now I've realized that I need to learn to react less emotionally to things. I need to stop, hold on, say "whoa."

The crisis at work, for example, is not the event to end all events. And yet I went off the deep end in my head on Friday thinking that I had to go out and look for a new job. C and C each had to talk me down. And they were totally correct--my response to problems is almost always a "flight" response.

And as I was lying in bed, too, I was questioning if I am really serious about training as a runner again or if I am doing it to cling to a notion of myself and of my achievements--a false confidence, even--that defined me at one point and that no longer has any true relevance for me. I think that this is the gut of the matter and I'm glad that I'm spelling it out for myself.

Yesterday I felt the flight or fight response to get fit in order to compete with you-know-who's new, younger girlfriend.

But lying in bed just now I felt that I should take this opportunity to be truthful with myself: I want to remain fit and healthy but it's time for my life to move on to place a focus on the artistic and personal interests and needs that have long gone unfulfilled.

If I'm honest, I'd have to say that a smart person would take the emotional roller coaster that I've put myself on and over in the last few months over a relationship that was never on strong footing...as a transition period into and out of my demons.

My demons have haunted me mercilessly. Through them I've not allowed myself to have self-respect. By avoiding facing them and staying cloistered and away from life I've made no progress. Now, in spite of the pain, I'm making progress.

I've been really angry and frustrated with the world, lately. But they say that depression is anger turned inward. So if I can finally get this out and start enjoying myself and treating myself and my friends well this is one hell of a great revolution.

Claus moves here this week. As much as I hate to depend on him I am so grateful that he will be here to take my mind away from the pain that I currently feel.

And I'm going to get out there and GO when friends invite me to do things. It's time to give myself a big kick in the butt.

No more anxiety allowed!

Somehow I think I can achieve this. I basically managed to reason and meditate my way out of the loop that I was in in fewer than 16 hours. I think I'm finally starting to understand my patterns sufficiently that I can control them. And to recognize that succumbing to them is not a foregone conclusion but rather a bad habit that I've developed over the years.

I'm a happy, funny person whom people like to be around. I need to consistently be that person. So in spite of the lack of sleep today is a new day and I will make the most of it. Why I've been focusing my energy on a shallow person who doesn't want to be with me (and I don't mean this bitterly) when there are so many wonderful and interesting people who DO want to be with me is way beyond anything that I can comprehend. But I've been doing it over and over and over again. No more.

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7:04 a.m. - 2007-06-17

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