2001-06-02 - 12:35 p.m.

tip o' the day: listen closely to how people try to love you, keep your heart open to the rainbow of ways people, imperfectly try to let you know.

i also love this quote from some one online person called fatalbert: poor is the man whose pleasures depend on the permission of another.

i feel like i'm living in the space inbetween.

i've got caffiene jitters and a calmness that almost comes from not caring about the outcome. of anything.

it's not that i don't care. it's that i can't control it all.

it must be that time of the month because i have deep breaths of sadness, that don't have a name or a place to hide.

i'm in such a fix. such a bind. lately i've desperately wanted to be completly bathed in inebriation. by jack and coke, red wine, vodka and red bull, pills a plenty, x, herion i've never tried, cocaine, many fat rails of white chemical feeling cocaine. the kind that numbs me and makes me feel the dripping in the back of my throat and that quiet taste of chemicals controlling me. the kind that i feel weeks after stopping. the repition that happens in my mind after i stop. the chopping with a edge on a flat surface, the cutting into nice lines, the snorting and tossing back of the head. the more. the more and more. the never-ending feeling.

so i've wanted to feel normal again. a part of the groups of people my age who drink a glass of wine and it doesn't ruin their lives. the ones that toss off the bad week with a little fun numbness. a little loss. a little removed.

why the fuck does it have to be so tortured? so god damn black and white, all or nothing for me? and i have this sneeking suspicion that this desire is an effort to stay.

to stay in the same place i'm used to being. in the drama, dancing in the darkness. in the hurt.

ripe said something to me. i said i also wanted to drink cuz my job sucks and she said isn't it silly to want to numb myself to make something bareable, instead of letting it be bad enough to feel it and make a change.

change.

light.

moving forward.

shedding these skins.

becoming me.

it's becoming too painful. even thou its usually full of light and good. i'm used to being blanketed and insane.

i'm afraid of moving forward, so i desperately want to turn it all off and shut down, quiet down, stop growing. stop at least for a year. take a year off sobriety and drink. i'm young enough.

and i know. i'm afraid that i may never get sober again. i may end up like my cousin, 35, still in her party clothes kicking coke, jobless, lifeless, companionless. i may end up like my dad who slept throu it all to wake up at 50 with a pool of wreckage. i may also end up dead with the way i drink and drive, the way i find it necessary to use drugs and lie to everyone i love. i may just balance it all and stop growing. and stay here in this one lesson i'll never have learned.

i went to this premiere party with my cousin at this billionairs house. she parties w/ him. he has the type of last name that everyone in america knows and the type of family past that people make movies about. he lets people live at his house where picasso's hang lightly, to use endless amounts of free coke and unaccountability.

this is so tempting. he would let me into the folds. their group keeps asking me out with them. several of them. concert tickets, party's. i want to loose myself in the idea of their life. i want to tip toe on that edge and i want to do it right this time.

my car stopped working. i bought her because my hole inside runs really deep and i needed a vintage sports car to make me feel better. and i like to drive really fast in an effort to fly past my feelings. but my car stopped working. it's at the shop and it may suck all of my vacation money dry. i may have to sell this thing that makes me feel so good. i may have to understand that i'm not my car.

it just seems like there are spiritual lessons in life, and then there is just life, letting it wiz by you cuz at some point your heart hurt too much to feel and be exposed to it.

i went to a mtg this morning. a women's mtg that i dreaded. i heard so much. i related too much. many ladies came up and gave me love and told me how excited they are about the camping trip i'm running. it's one of the soul reason's i haven't dranken yet. becuz i have wrapped myself around so many people who don't know my harry past with a bottle of jack. they wouldn't know the difference if i so decided one dinner to order a drink. and i saw this little girl and i remembered how i want to be sober to have a lill baby at some point. how i know i don't ever want to do that drunk. how that seems to be the whole point, the whole passing of love. how it's secretly my little dream inside to have a baby and do it all differently.

but here i am, stuck in the space inbetween.