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Tuesday, January 4th, 2005
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2:39p
Being the avoidant that I am, I made ( another mix. )
I don't think I mentioned this before, but I have all these songs, obviously, if anyone wants them.
Ugh. I'm fine in the afternoon. I'm fine in the evening. But then it's late at night and I know morning is coming and I know school is in the morning. I start to have trouble falling asleep. My stomach starts to hurt. I get a headache. I either throw up or get sick in other ways. I can't sleep. I'm awake until close to morning.
The doctor yesterday said there were clearly signs of anxiety. I brought a self-test I'd printed offline where I'd circled almost every question 'yes.' I took Lexapro for depression a few years ago, so the doctor gave me another prescription for that. She said it should help my anxiety. She also wants me to see a counselor, which is what I'd really prefer to medication. I don't want to depend on something that might not be there when I need it most.
I must be thinking about this too much. I'm feeling nauseous again.
My mom just called me and offered me a job where she works. I'd be washing dishes. Hmmph. You know something is wrong with me when I'll consider washing dishes and spending scheduled time with my mother. I like things scheduled with my father and spontaneous with my mom. I'm not sure why.
My girl posted pictures of herself yesterday. She is so cute!
I told my mom to give me an hour to think. That was five minutes ago. She just called back. I guess washing dishes it is. That's a change from bookkeeping.
current mood: apathetic
current music: Wake Up -- Arcade Fire (6 comments |comment on this)
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9:31p
My mom has dry heaves. My nausea has lasted all day.
This doesn't seem good.
(comment on this)
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11:41p
How do those log-rolling competitions work?
I see men in plaid shirts and too-tight jeans. I see a small river.
I see feet. I see pieces of bark breaking off.
I see my face in the water. I am the log and I am the feet. I am turning myself over, over. Over, over. I am looking for some hidden part of me that doesn't exist.
My weaknesses are the same as my strengths. My fear and my anger and my love. My body and my mind. I see someone standing on their hands in the river. The hands are turning the log. The fingers are pushing at wet bark. The bark falls away. The hands are mine. I'm leaving myself raw. I'm picking at everything I can find.
Other people are standing near the water. It whispers as it rushes. Leave her alone, leave her alone. But small rivers are spiteful and their sincerity should be questioned. The other people question it.
Why should we leave her alone? They create a chorus. The water branches- around me, the feet; around me, the hands; around me, the log. The four sections create another chorus. They harmonize- around me.
Leave her alone, leave her alone.
I never answer.
current music: Kicking the Heart Out -- Rogue Wave (15 comments |comment on this)
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