my return home brings with it a few goals.
i will:
- stop reading "blogs," except maybe bobby's, since it is art.
- stop eating chips of any sort (corn or potato)
- stop chatting on icb or aim
instead i will:
- work on my sheldrake paper
- go to yoga
- get some other things done, like thinking about myself outside of the context of other people and what they do and what they think.
- be more present
- write like it is a dance instead of a book report
i hope to last at least one week.
wish me luck.
ps. burning man was filled with extremes, as it should be. more on that later.
we just went to city lights and hung out in the poetry room for a while. after i bought yet another sheldrake book. i like being in school because it gives me a "legitimate" reason to spend money on wanky books. being in the poetry room and reading diprima made me feel like i haven't written anything very poetic in some time. i was considering attempting to do a poem a day for the next couple of weeks. please email me if you have advice on freewriting exercises that get the poetic brain happening.
oliver did a lot of our post burningman laundry today. just now, from the bedroom where he is folding, he said "your clothes are so much more entertaining than my clothes."
i want us to get a car and a kitten.
also i'm remembering my whole big goal of taking classes at city college so that i could get into ciis. hm.
DEAR ELLY.CS.WISC.EDU:
if you look at my stats you will note that whatever you did accounts for almost 20% of the bandwidth pushed through my site so far this month. who are you? what are you up to? now your hostname won't resolve. did you mirror my site?
please explain.
love, elly
it's been a really rough couple of days. i moved the last of my things out of peter's apartment, and it really sent me into a nervous breakdown. it was gut wrenching to deal with the final details of leaving yet another home, especially because i've never fully understood what spurred my need to leave it. i seem to do things at the subconcious level more than i'd like to. for a while i just sat on our old couch crying and telling oliver i wasn't going anywhere. he really has been amazingly patient and awesome.
it's not that i want the past back, it's that there's nothing familiar that's mine anymore, no home to go to, and it's causing desparare insanity. it might be a fun situation if i hadn't moved every two years (on average - give or take a year) my whole life. i have no hometown, no house i grew up in, nothing. SF is it for me, as far as home goes, and i have no home here either right now. it's making me really really insane and irrational to be without a familiar cozy place of my own. when i have had such a thing in the past, though, i've seemed to enjoy promptly destroying it, so i'm not sure what it is i actually want.
anyway, i've been crying a lot and generally having a hard time. if you're an SF friend and you don't understand why you haven't seen me since i've been home from burning man, that's why. it's all getting better now though, my things are all safely in storage, so i don't have to go back and get upset about my old home anymore when i go to get things out of it. and yoko is laying on my belly purring. and we rented real genius. and oliver is about to bring me a burrito. and i met xep's dog bean last night and that was the best thing that's happened to me in many days. and i'm about to get a big check from some contract work.
not chatting seems to be not really affecting me at all, which is interesting. the only inconvenience has been that oliver has to email me urls instead of messaging me with them. i kind of miss aim though, just because there's a couple of people on there i otherwise never get to talk to. avoiding reading blogs hasn't been going that well.
ok thanks.
the haze lifted sometime last night. i knew that i was feeling better this morning because i was so happy to snuggle into the soft warm sheets and nuzzle the bed and look out the window into the lightwell, trees, and sun. it was the first time in four or five days that i had felt joy at one of the simple things that i usually really love.
oliver evacuated to michigan today, but before he did we had exceedingly delicious farewell snuggles which i was able to actually enjoy. it made me realize something about sharing affection - something simple. when you are able to give it, you receive it. unconditional love is different than affection. affection seems to be very much an exchange between two, something which grows at each return. but unconditional love can be beamed from anywhere to anywhere, no exchange required. i often want affection when i'm not in a place where i can give it back.
despite the betterness of this day, i woke up from difficult dreams. gory dreams with lots of blood. i won't tell you about them. i didn't tell anyone the details of them actually, even though usually i tell oliver. i'll tell you the nice parts of the dreams though:
the nicest parts of my dreams were the horses. big chocolately horses staring out of dreamspace, with huge eyes, and very peaceful. i dream of horses often, and in my dreams they are a force of nature in the same category as ocean or sky. they convene in masses. i have dreamt of fields full of horses, their backs piled on top of each other through perspective until it's like miles of rolling hills made of horse-backs, broken up by trees made of manes. they are all different shades of black and bay and chestnut, a red glow coming up from somewhere far below their hooves. in other dreams, horses have appeared 10 times the size of real horses, or in stampedes over me where i'm left unscathed. last night though, there was just one horse, placid, looking at me for what seemed like forever, as a respite between two gory murder scenes. i could barely make him out against the dark background of the dream.
i wonder what the horses mean. do you know what they mean? i want the appearance of animals in dreams to mean something. i also want it to mean something when, for example, i find a huge black dusty beetle in my hair during burning man. looking up the meanings of animals online or in books seems disappointing - the meanings never seem complex enough.
sometime yesterday i became very specific and fierce about my exact desires surrounding my hair. i went to my awesome person (michelle) at hairdoo voodoo and explained to her what needed to happen and she perfectly executed my vision. hence i present to you: my fucking awesome haircut which i love. this haircut is my birthright. it is the only haircut i should ever have for this moment of time right now.
i am having a transcendental experience listening to bjork 'homogenic' right now. i didn't realize until i put it on that i haven't listened to music for myself in a long time. i feel very lightheaded because i have a small cold, and i have been dosing myself liberal with herbal things that i'm sure contribute to lightheadedness. this is adding to my bjork experience!
i just untangled the paper prayer flags that hang over the window, and laid quietly on the satin blanket which covers our makeshift chaise lounge (read: twin bed with throw pillows on it). the sky was deepest indigo, the color of satisfying glass bottles for sale at rainbow.
on the bed with me was a mangled bic pen and a locked kryptonite brand bike lock. i know picking your kryptonite lock with a bic pen is all the rage these days, but i was unable to open mine or oliver's locks with the bic. the pen did not fit in the hole. it was disappointing. i'm sad about how the locks all turned out to be easily picked. it makes me worry for everyone's bike.
today i went to see a shrink and it was ok. then on the way home, i sat in the sun and ate soup, looked at shoes and clothes, rode the bus with annoying teenagers, and went to the scarlet sage.
at the scarlet sage i began a scary but really important process. i got a lot of vitamin supplements, a seven day pill box, and some ingredients to make an herbal decoction. i will use these items to combat my thyroid problem, hormone balance problems, and the fibroid tumor on my uterus. by doing this i hope to reduce excess estrogen in my body and hopefully reduce the terrible mood swings and depression that come along with the hormone shifts i experience each month.
it's scary for me, because by making the commitment to work on the hormone issues i'm doing a number of things:
- admitting something is wrong with me that i need to treat
- admitting that the source of most of my emotional ups and downs is physically oriented (hormones) and not "karmic" or deserved by me
- asserting that my health and happiness is important enough to spend time and money on; that in fact i *deserve* to be ok
- trying to get better in the face of adversity.
(confidential metaphor for oliver: i am going run to try to get to the restaurant i want to eat at, even though i know it closes soon. i want to trust that they will let me in and feed me.)
my pride is so huge that it is only recently that i have even been able to admit that i have pride.
in the past few months i have been angry because i feel like "people" (They) want me to be different, more manageable, and more sedate. i have felt like my emotional self is rejected by the general populus as being too extreme. and i've been stubborn about trying to change even the difficult aspects of being in my own head, because i don't want to be bending to the will of Them. i want to be loved and accepted how i am, even when it's difficult for other people. because of this i've been resisting taking care of my health *for myself.* cutting off my nose to spite my face.
but today i realized, during a tense conversation with the shrink about how i NEVER want to be on SSRI's *, that by refusing to take care of myself i'm losing what i think of as emotional credibility. when you don't take care of yourself, other people feel like they have the authority to make decisions for you, since you obviously can't make positive ones on your own. and they don't listen to you when you say you know what's right for yourself, because if you did, you would fucking do it. i felt a vague panic today as i tried to defend myself to the shrink who was incredulous that not only was i stubborn about [taking my thyroid meds|taking hormone balancers|eating right|exercising|takingvitamins], but i also rejected SSRIs?!!? what are you going to do then, suffer and bitch to me about it for the rest of your life?
so maybe this is still pride, but it's kind of a more positive use of it. my motivation today is more like: fuck, i'll show Them i know what i'm talking about! i'll take my vitamins and hippie tinctures and do what i need to do for myself and then They'll see that i'm not fucking crazy and i don't need goddamn meds or pity either! and *i* will decide that it is time for me to do that.
yes, i have imaginary interactions with the abstract groups of society that i feel are somewhere out there opressing me just by thinking. maybe i do need meds.
bjork is a scorpio. one of her most scorpionic lyrics is i dare you to take me on / i dare you to show me your palms / i'm so bored of cowards / that say they want, then they can't handle
anyway, tonight i am cleaning up the sublet and making a space for myself to get some work done on all the practical things that have been sliding. it's slow going because i have the strange combination of the following:
- caffiene
- caffeine related epiphanies
- headcold related spaciness/weakness
- hunger
- no appetite
slowly though, i am putting things away and creating order. and from order comes productivity. says saturn in virgo.
someone sent me email about my rad new haircut. he said that it reminded him of this excellent caterpillar. that is the best compliment ever. i believe he also referred to my appearance as wooly, which is my highest aesthetic aspiration. i'm not being sarcastic.
* ...and that's not a diss to people who are on SSRI's. part of my major problem right now is that i don't know when what i feel is "real" or is influenced by the powerful force known as my hormones. i feel like if i add SSRI's, i have no chance to EVER get back to baseline for myself. plus i don't like synthetic things.
decay set in slowly
the time you didn't call me back
the time i asked you for the same favor
you'd done ten thousand times
and you forgot to do it
there was no obligation
it was just
that
these things made up our love
our engine
a machine which ran constantly in a wide open space
and you, its diligent mechanic
always maintaining its perpetually threatened motion
its numerous broken parts
maintenance as prayer, as mantra
we were so busy
with innards, with beautiful clockparts
with intricacies and obsessive reparations
that we did not know that we hurtled through the sky
doomed to make an inevitable connection with gravity
it has been sad to let go of each component of the junked machine
bit by bit
over these months
...
"motor's seized. you'll never get 'er home now"
...
unfamiliar territory in SF today. down 32nd avenue towards the park. to the right, the ocean was so bright that it was just a blazing streak of light at the end of all the roads. i was going toward the park to try and look upon a horse. the afternoon light made everything look like the scene in "empire of the sun" where christian bale comes home and no one is there. on the way i passed exotic and foreign street names: anza. cabrillo. i passed a barefoot man with long hair who looked at me with an all-too-penetrating stare. he may have known everything. and as i got closer and closer to the familiar smell of salty wet eucalyptus that surrounds golden gate park, a fading crackhead smoking a handrolled cigarette looked up at me to say: "where you goin? home?"
it was a good day.
i woke up late, kind of depressed, but put on a lot of music anyway. the decemberists, cat power, and led zeppelin. my favorite led zeppelin song is 'kashmir.' the decemberists: i love to sing the part from my mother was a chinese trapeze artist where he says: so he made me a sailor on his brigadier ship fleet / i know every yardarm from mainmast to jib sheet / but sometimes i wish to be landlocked / and work in a bakery.
i seemed to sweat a lot today - it was hot, but i was sweating more than i should have been. something with blood sugar i think, makes me sweat when i haven't eaten enough or have had too much coffee or sugar.
saw megan's beautiful face (and the rest of her) for tea and chocolate at urban forage. (cashew cream, yum) we shopped at thrift stores after that, and it was like no time had passed between us, since when she left to live up north.
i was uncomfortable because i was sweating so much, and self concious about it. i have a little extra cash so i thought i might like to shop but i couldn't get excited about clothes.
on the way home, still depressed though brightened by megan, i bought a homeless person a burrito. it's weird how that comes over me, 20 people ask me for something on the street and i turn them down, then sometimes someone says 'help me get something to eat' and i'm just like.. ok. sometimes, it just doesn't seem like an unreasonable request at all. i think, of course.
i got worried because i felt like shit even though i've been having vitamins and things. i thought, maybe i'll always be unhappy. something broke then, we can't talk about it here, but sometimes depression or fear breaks, the way a fever breaks, and suddenly i emerged out of a cloud of distrust and oliver was there, calm and steady.
then we went out! we drank champagne and ate burritos on the floor of christie's massage room. saw a bunch of folks i haven't seen in a while. starting to realize what it really means to know people for a long time. the comfort of old friends, even old aquaintances, is really something. domini pounced on me. people seem to really care about me and say wonderful things about me at times, even just domini clutching me and saying that she loves me is a revelation to me. i loved giving shit to wayne, old pals, the old boundaries i felt between us (because he is older? more powerful? was kind of my boss once?) gone.
i also made a decision about school. i am going to drop out! but i am going to go to CIIS and have a meeting with their admissions people next weekand start the process of trying to get in there.
1. having an excellent memory: curse or boon?
2. stampedes of chocolate-red horses
3. THE IMAGE: mountain under heaven. the image of RETREAT.
4. tonight, corner of 21st/dolores. full moon rises in aries. random stranger, standing in the street, says to me: hey, you gotta see this moon. we stand together, staring.
5. hating oneself: a special kind of vanity
up late, couldn't sleep because of worries, fear, depression, crying. decided i was tired of feeling tormented and scared, so i took a couple of 5htp. 30 mins later i can feel the 5htp changing my mood, taking the fear away. nothing is real, nothing i feel is real, it's all available to be changed at a moment's notice. why bother caring what any of your feelings are? i will never be normal and i will never know who my "true self" is. i guess someday that won't matter to me.
ps. i have been trying not to write too much about my depression here since i don't want this to become a very cliche' situation. what, a depressed internet journaler?! but the depression is really what is happening to me now, and it is hard not to write about it. if you would like to read the journal of someone who is not depressed, i would suggest possibly reading my journal from when i lived at omega or maybe one of these nice sites:
- justin - the eternal sagittarius, you won't find much doom and gloom here.
- oof.org - this nice gentleman seems to post many happy photos from his camera phone, sometimes of parks. a very upbeat journal.
- bobby - isn't always light reading but i find his general outlook to be optimistic.
- rich mackin - a zinester and zen buddhist, rich mackin has hope for the human race.
- joanna - i can't really define joanna's general mood, but her most recent entry as of this post includes the sentence "I am happy!" so i think i can safely send you there.
