tuluum's Diaryland Diary
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Just Rambling...
I'm going to try to eke out an entry because I feel that somehow it will help my frame of mind. Which has been destructive of late. Right now I have a neat little line of Klonopins smiling at me on my desk. I have broken them into quarter segments so that they last longer, and be missed less. Chomping them down whole is yummy but not when surreptitiously acquiring supplies.
So why am I doing this? I wish I could answer this question. Almost as much as I wish I could tell you why I am not watching the Oscars. They haven't interested me in years to tell you the truth. At least with the Grammys you can see the performers perform. With the Oscars you get ego stroking ego and not much else. Boring.
My mind is destroying me, slowly but surely.
I have done reading upon reading upon this my dears. Upon one of the central issues that is eating at me like a cancer. Each time it ends happily. This frustrates me, as happiness is the furthest emotion from my heart. Still my cards haven't let me down to date. So why all this fear, self-hate, anger?
I also did some cards for another friend. Her ending was not so good, but I will not tell her this. I guess she will have to learn for herself. Some people always do.
I will miss Simonne. She leaves today. I have tried calling but silence. I wanted to take her out today. Probably for the best. I have been drunk and drugged the past 4 days and sleeping for most of them. I so want to talk about these fears and paranoias. But even on paper they escape me. So I made a new layout instead.
The top line is from the song I wrote for E's concert. Still working on the arrangement. Mom says to have patience.
I read an article that stated that the best Jewish response to the Passion would be to make this the most rocking Purim of Purims. I like that. I believe that. I think I shall do this. Last year I neglected Purim for the first time in years. This year I will make a bang of it. A mega-bang.
Nia called me a few hours ago, from Ohio. I was so moved by that. She's was furious and worried about me. That's love I think. I felt loved. I am loved, somewhere I am cognizant of this but why it is so hard to let it fill me?
There is so much I am holding myself back from saying, I really hate this.
I am staying away from the Net. I am staying away from Instant Messengers. There is nothing really that I want to say, there is even less that I want to hear. Are your shoes too tight? Sorry, but is that important? Your date moved to Thursday from Monday? Cry me a river. Sale at Nordstrom and you're thinking of picking up some coats at 60% off.. Wow, let me put that in my Day Planner. I can't muster the energy to care right now. Right now my mind is consumed with my own myopia of mental illness, neurological limitations, Alzheimers and debt. Right now I think anyone who is complaining about anything that does not impact their physical health or their ability to keep a roof over their heads really needs to shut the fuck up and get a sense of perspective.
I'm so glad that Body Balance has been helping my mom though, she raves to me almost every day and I can see it in her stride and her skin. Hopefully next month when the TrueGreens, Osteoprocare and AminoCharge arrive, it will help even more, as well as with dad's mental decline. I really need to get him Sunbright and Herbal Body Wrap (for his head) but will have to hold off on that...
I need to think about getting a new car, that's a pipe dream, but I need to think about it. Instead I spend most of my time thinking about a strong pair of male arms holding me through this loneliness and fear and panic. Providing comfort and companionship through something that I have never faced before, and really have no words for. Those arms don't exist, but when I sleep they do. And sleep I do. 16-20 hour stretches at times.
It makes me think of a story which isn't really a story or a metaphor or a parable. It involves two boys. They share so many similarities and are yet so different, they've never met but maybe at one time they crossed paths. One I loved intensely and at one time to great detriment to the other love of my life, the major one. Still I continued to love this boy for years. He was one of the few people who could understand my mind, who could follow it's non sequitur flow, who shared my passion for drum riffs, obscure references, music, literature, movies. I did things for him that I had stopped doing for anyone since high school, until Dave. And it was for naught. Where is he now? I don't know. I suppose I could care but that is too much effort. It is a scar. One of many. There have been people I have cared for since but none have had the same depth or connection, and all have gone. All for the best I suppose. Which brings us back to the story of the two boys and where the parallels begin and where they will end. And will I pull a smoke and mirrors as I am wont to do. And as my lil Klonoppies tell me to.
I am reading The Secret Of Jewish Femininity, I love this book and for some reason I felt a need to brush up on the laws of taharat hamispachah. Not that I'll be needing them anytime soon though I do try to get spruced up around mikvot night from now so it won't be too much of an adjustment whenever that day arrives.
This week I bought some Carnival magazines. Wasn't able to get the glossies, they sold out each time. I'm hoping those I wanted to give glossies to won't be too mad about this. I just have not been able...
I did some readings last night for steve as well I just realised. My tarot group on Thursday night was a lifesaver and gave me the strength to say some things to my mom that needed saying. Now I need to find the strength to finish my work. I know realistically it shouldnt take more than 3 hours, but I've taken these pills and the panic is still there... There needs to be more than this...
Go find Christ in life, not just in the movies
Feb. 29, 2004 12:00 AM
If media reports are accurate, Christians the world over are finding Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ to be both shocking and inspirational.
In Matthew 25 Jesus told us that he would be with us in the persons of the poor, the homeless, the hungry, prisoners - in all those who are marginalized by the powerful in our society.
Why then do we Christians not pay attention to Christ crucified in those people: the homeless buried weekly at White Tanks Cemetery, immigrants crossing our borders trying to earn a living to feed their families, American soldiers and Iraqis dying daily, Mathew Shepard hanging from a fence in Wyoming, prisoners serving lengthy sentences for non-violent crimes, the bleeding and dying Palestinians, Israelis and Ugandans?
Jesus is with us. The Christ suffering every day in real people should inspire us and rouse us to action.
Why are we blind to that Christ but not to Gibson's Christ? - Jerry Ellsworth, Flagstaff
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12:09 a.m. - Monday, Mar. 01, 2004
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