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Sep. 26th, 2006 03:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elizabethAm feeling fragile. I had a rather rough session at the counseling center, and skipped a lecture (it's 100 people, I can barely concentrate during anyway), and just, fragile.
The thing is, all of my problems are serious ones. Real ones. There's nothing small so I can just work up to coping with everything else -- I have the depression and the thyroid and the academic and god only knows what else, everything's urgent, everything counts, and I am fucking overwhelmed.
I'm not sure if I'm coming back in the spring. I'm not sure if I should, I'm not sure if I can, and the thought of staying and doing myself more damage makes me want to throw up; but the thought of leaving when I could be here, when I could be learning, and returning to north hell, makes me want to die. Feels like dying.
Fragile.
Yesterday, in dance class, I had to stop -- I couldn't feel my left hand or foot. That's almost certainly a thyroid thing, numbness or tingling in the extremities, but it frightened the hell out of me. (I have an appointment for bloodwork this Friday.)
Fragile.
I am trying to be good, to get things done, to do what I need to do -- check my email, talk to people, be friendly, finish my reading, turn in the essays, everything -- and I am ..I'm maybe not doing as well as I could hope, as I want, but I'm doing pretty well. I'm trying. I'm not hitting every goal, I'm not perfect, but that's okay, because I'm trying, I'm not walking away, I'm not giving up. But I don't know if it's enough.
That my best or the best I'm capable of right now might not be enough makes me ache. I'm teary just writing this, and while the Black 47 song playing isn't helping (I have my failings and I have tried / To look them squarely in the eye / To be there when someone might call / For I know cruel well how hard it is to fall), I don't think that's really to blame.
And now I am going to read (skim) John Demos on the unredeemed captive and try not to cry and keep checking the progress of the zip file I'm uploading (*thwacks wireless connection*).
This is not -- I'm not asking for y'all to tell me how awesome I am. I just -- sometimes I just need to say it, record it, force myself to know that this is real, so I know even when I'm okay. I don't know why, exactly. You know the line in, what is it, somewhere in the King James, Act as if ye have faith and faith shall be given to ye? I need to know that this exists even when I don't feel it, and I know this is insane and irrational but then so is this whole fucked-up mess, so fuck off.
And Dorian just called and while I really didn't want to talk to him, still a little teary, I'm so glad I picked up, because yes, I do love him that much and he does mean that much to me, and also, it helps to be reminded that there are people out there with whom I have a connection. I don't know if there's anyone else with whom I could talk about how we should found a lesbian separatist commune. And just -- I got so lucky with Dorian. I have been so lucky over the last few years.berne, Dorian, traveling -- so lucky. How can I not want to repay that cosmic generosity?
(If this turns out to be pms rather than depression, I will...I don't know. I mean, that's good news, right? Mildly humiliating, but still, good.)
The thing is, all of my problems are serious ones. Real ones. There's nothing small so I can just work up to coping with everything else -- I have the depression and the thyroid and the academic and god only knows what else, everything's urgent, everything counts, and I am fucking overwhelmed.
I'm not sure if I'm coming back in the spring. I'm not sure if I should, I'm not sure if I can, and the thought of staying and doing myself more damage makes me want to throw up; but the thought of leaving when I could be here, when I could be learning, and returning to north hell, makes me want to die. Feels like dying.
Fragile.
Yesterday, in dance class, I had to stop -- I couldn't feel my left hand or foot. That's almost certainly a thyroid thing, numbness or tingling in the extremities, but it frightened the hell out of me. (I have an appointment for bloodwork this Friday.)
Fragile.
I am trying to be good, to get things done, to do what I need to do -- check my email, talk to people, be friendly, finish my reading, turn in the essays, everything -- and I am ..I'm maybe not doing as well as I could hope, as I want, but I'm doing pretty well. I'm trying. I'm not hitting every goal, I'm not perfect, but that's okay, because I'm trying, I'm not walking away, I'm not giving up. But I don't know if it's enough.
That my best or the best I'm capable of right now might not be enough makes me ache. I'm teary just writing this, and while the Black 47 song playing isn't helping (I have my failings and I have tried / To look them squarely in the eye / To be there when someone might call / For I know cruel well how hard it is to fall), I don't think that's really to blame.
And now I am going to read (skim) John Demos on the unredeemed captive and try not to cry and keep checking the progress of the zip file I'm uploading (*thwacks wireless connection*).
This is not -- I'm not asking for y'all to tell me how awesome I am. I just -- sometimes I just need to say it, record it, force myself to know that this is real, so I know even when I'm okay. I don't know why, exactly. You know the line in, what is it, somewhere in the King James, Act as if ye have faith and faith shall be given to ye? I need to know that this exists even when I don't feel it, and I know this is insane and irrational but then so is this whole fucked-up mess, so fuck off.
And Dorian just called and while I really didn't want to talk to him, still a little teary, I'm so glad I picked up, because yes, I do love him that much and he does mean that much to me, and also, it helps to be reminded that there are people out there with whom I have a connection. I don't know if there's anyone else with whom I could talk about how we should found a lesbian separatist commune. And just -- I got so lucky with Dorian. I have been so lucky over the last few years.
berne, Dorian, traveling -- so lucky. How can I not want to repay that cosmic generosity?(If this turns out to be pms rather than depression, I will...I don't know. I mean, that's good news, right? Mildly humiliating, but still, good.)
Reposted from LJ, 20 March 2009
