2.18.2008 - survey says...

8/22/2007 - deficit omne quod nasciture

I’m nauseous, I have chills, I can’t sleep (at night…I seem to have no problem falling asleep when I should be doing other things during the day), and lately I’ve been a lousy friend. It’s just that it’s killing me to see my dad like this. I know I should be calm about it and use yoga to be more “zen,” but god fucking dammit I can’t. Everything inside of me rages against acquiescence, and now I’m stuck in a situation in which the most I can do is help out around the house and give my dad a hug every once in awhile.

The weather has been matching my mood lately…it’s unseasonably cold, with wind whipping up little eddies around gravel in the puddles on the sidewalk. The sky is grey, with the occasional black spot looming in the distance. Even the rain itself feels heavy and oppressive, like the drops are crushing me one by one. The only place more perfect would be on Martha’s Vineyard on the cliffs at Aquinnah, watching the waves below slowly and relentlessly beat at the rock face, sucking it back into the ocean over thousands of years. The sea is so beautiful in the fall…the shades of grey are more numerous than you can imagine, and there’s only a faint line where the water and sky meet on the horizon. You can get lost just looking at it, just listening to the wind which is simultaneously a sigh and a scream.

Classes are starting on Monday…I need to figure out how to get myself together by then. Four days isn’t exactly time enough to completely change my outlook on life, but it’ll have to be enough time to start. At the moment, all I can think is that grades don’t matter in the scheme of things. I know that I need a good GPA to get into a good graduate or law school, but these days it’s nearly impossible to get out of bed just to shower, much less work my ass off towards something I’m not even sure that I want. I just don’t know if I can handle being a good daughter and a good friend on top of being a good student.

My father’s radiation therapy will last into October – every single day for eight weeks. He’s weak, tired, and he’s struggling to hide it as much as possible. I’ve never seen him quite so limited by his own body, and I know it’s tearing him apart mentally as well as physically. He wants my mother to believe that everything is alright, but she’s not stupid. It’s taking a toll on her, as well. Having lupus means that she’s tired and half sick most of the time, and that when she does get sick it’s horrendous. She’s has to go to the hospital when she gets a cold. Dad used to take care of her, and now she’s having to take care of him. What that means is that I feel the pressure of supporting them both, and I don’t know how to manage.

My friendships have deteriorated as well. Brian and I hang out, but I can’t ever seem to trust that he genuinely cares about me or wants to be spending time with me. I generally feel like a substitute for him…I’m not one of the two people he wants to be with, but I’ll do in a pinch. I sound so cynical, even to my own ears, but it doesn’t stop the fact that whenever he smiles at me the first thing that goes through my head is “what’s his reason for doing that?” Jason and I…well, that relationship is so fucked I don’t even know where to begin. Sometimes I really believe that I could fall in love with him. Other times I know that I can’t. He’s comfortable…but does being comfortable exclude the possibility of genuine happiness? I want to be able to open up to him – talk to him about all of these things and more. But for some reason I always hold back. I think it’s that I know he won’t get it, and I’d rather not go through the frustration of attempting to explain. For some reason he always says the wrong thing…something to make me feel like he’s seeing me as an example in his psychology textbooks. If I wanted a psychologist’s opinion, I’d go see one. When I’m talking to Jason, I want to know what HE thinks…the man I’ve known and loved with all of my heart for seven years. He should know me better than anyone else, and yet sometimes he doesn’t get me at all. I so desperately want to know with certainty how I feel about him, how he feels about me, and where we stand together, that I sometimes forget that my curiosity and desire and confusion push him away.

And now…now I’m back where I started. Nauseous, shivering, tired, and wondering what’s going to happen next. I only hope I can maintain enough of a façade to let me hold everyone else above the water.