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2005-05-27 @ 12:51 a.m.
pondering periodically perplexing periods

Its been a while since I've been thrown for a loop emotionally, but "A"s announcement of cutting back my appointments, a trip to my art class and seeing the newsletter which I've been doing for 4-5 months already done and the return of my period which I haven't had since February (and its been a doozy), all have pretty much made me a total emotional wreck since yesterday. I cried and sobbed on the phone with my mom in the afternoon. Went to work and did a woman's group. Did okay there. Went home, slept for like 10 minutes and then went to my art class. Whilst there I was bleeding so heavily I thought I was giving birth to the devil's spawn and I was feeling so unwanted and unneccessary that I went into the bathroom and started crying. I guess it was the old HERmones kicking in. And this was at my freakin' art class! The place where I feel most happy! And the model had even just complimented my drawing of her, saying it made her look angelic.

I really thought I could handle the rest of the evening. I even went back out for the hour pose and was standing at one of the easels going through sheet after sheet of paper. My concentration was shot. I had a headache. I again felt like I was giving birth to Rosemary’s baby and had cramps, which I haven't had in years. Fuck. I thought this shit was over.

I finally just slammed my sketchbook shut and went back to my original art table where "K", my second potential art class husband was working and got my purse. "K" looked up at me surprised and said, "Was it something I said?" I told him I just wasn't feeling well, and was going home. Needless to say, I was already crying by time I got to my car. And was sobbing all the way home. What a freakin' mess.

I guess I just feel abandoned. I feel abandoned by "A", who is basically my last support on the entire Eastern Seaboard. I then wondered why the newsletter had been done without me. I mean the Fearless Art Leader did explain it...he said they needed to get something out fast, so he did it. But I work really fast too. Why didn't he just shoot me the stuff over the internet like he always does? So I felt rejected by him and my art class. And my art class means everything to me. If I lose "A" AND my art class, I might as well, just pack everything up and fahgeddabout it. Because then I'll have nothing.

And also, I've really been thinking about Married Guy a lot the last couple of days. I had found his last letter to me over the weekend and reread the damn thing and then practically my whole session with "A" had been about him. And I've worked really hard to get him out of my consciousness. I've gotten rid of all his pictures in my house. I only generally think about him about 3% of the day rather than 110% of the day like before. But now, like last night after I got home, I called my mom and we talked (and I cried) until after midnight about "A" and about Married Guy and even about the loss of my Dad to the Filipino Mail Order Whore. I just can't seem to hold onto people who are important to me.

I got all the same shit from her that I get from "A". Oh, you just have to look up at people and talk to them. What a novel idea! Now why didn't I think of that? Do you think if I was capable of doing that I would be sitting here virtually friendless, dateless and everythingless, if I was charming and vivacious? I just can't seem to make anyone understand that I'm not capable of doing that. The more pressure people put on me to make friends, the harder it gets. I just can't perform on command.

I think its because I never had people giving me pats on the back, growing up, telling me how worthwhile I was and how the world was a better place because of my existance. I've always had to eek out what little self esteem I do have for myself by sheer determination and from the THINGS I DO, rather than the person I am. In other words, I have always been able to get scads of complements on my writing and artwork and gardening abilities and even the cooking of my primo grill cheeses, but never about me.

So I'm tough in that way, but very untough in some other ways. For instance, I love defending the underdog. I love sticking up for people who are struggling in our groups. I love being able to see their strengths and telling them how great they are and what gifts they have, but then unfortunately, when I look in the mirror, I see nothing.

So I've been trying to get "A" to help me with this, but all he does is shove more and more social choices at me, like I really have a shot at them. Well, I don't, "A".

Just because you hand a guy a scalpel, doesn't mean he can do brain surgery.

And I feel frustrated. Extremely frustrated. I mean, I've made a lot of changes in the last year. I've lost the weight. I got a job. I dumped Married Guy (at least physically). My finances have improved slightly. I'm feeling more sexual. I dropped out of my support group, when I realized it was depressing me. I'm less of a victim. And other than my paranoia, I think my mental health has improved immensely. The down side? I lost Married only friend. I lost my support group. And I'm about to lose "A", who is my only real support left. And I am in a total panic. Its not like I can run down to the Evil Empire and get replacement parts.

So I was crying very intensely on the phone last night. I even took two clonopin rather than my usual one. Not sure why my mom felt the need to bring up my Dad once again. That too, is a painful subject for me. She is still convinced that she can write a letter to the Filipino Mail Order Whore and somehow persuade her to write me a check for like $5000 so that I can get a new, used car. Ha! If she ever even saw anything with a postmark from our city, she'd probably have one of her servants take it out to some field and burn it and then sprinkle it over my Dad's gravesite or something.

After "A"s group this morning, where we mostly discussed sin and guilt, I headed to work for DBT and then it was off to meet my client for a trip to the cinema. Yeah, they pay me to go to the movies. Go figure. Unfortunately, I don't get to pick the movies. My client does. So I got to see my first horror movie since I worked at UA6 theatre in Santa Rosa in 1977 and used to see "Halloween" everynight. I'd always go into the theatre about a minute before one of the big scream moments, just because it was so funny hearing all the girls (and guys) scream like a bunch of little girls.

So what did I see today? "House of Wax" with Paris Hilton. Bleccch! Since I haven't seen a horror movie in almost 30 years, I haven't seen how graphic they’ve become and I felt a little nervous about taking my client who suffers from mental illness. But she was giggling and saying, "awesome!", so I guess, it really wasn't that bad. It was so over the top from the violence standpoint, that I was actually laughing along with her. It was totally absurd. Maybe that was the point.

I was actually more scared during the George Romero preview of "Land of the Dead". Was it the zombies who were scary? No. But there was this weird scratching sound during the credits, that totally eeked me out.

So what's the next scary thing on the agenda? Drinking barium tomorrow morning for an upper GI series. I've lost the paperwork for that too, so I just hope they do the procedure and don't give me any lip.

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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty