Church this morning was what you might call “a time.” We all went, me and Ian and Jess; walked through the wind and cold, unsure of if there would be any Crossroads people there at all. Happily, there were! Jason and Lori lead worship and Ify managed to get off working today. The service went long and my fountain pen ran completely dry after half the sermon. I think it was a little too strange for Jess because she really didn’t have much to say after when I asked. After church we went to CVS in search of a postcard. Atlantic Monthly requires we include a self addressed, stamped postcard so they can notify me of receiving the manuscript. Ironically, we couldn’t find postcards ANYWHERE. Too bad, because if I had thought of it I could’ve had Jess drive to Vantage and get me one from there to include (as if A.M. people would notice! Also the link is what I found when I searched Google for “Vantage, WA”) In the end I just cut the front off of a regular card and turned that into a “postcard” that I can only hope will actually go through the mail alright. I tried hard, anyway. That goes off tomorrow.
December 1st my manuscript must be sent off! Ack! Eeek! Panic! Actually it’s mostly prepared thanks to Uncle Gerard’s kind help… and no thanks to the 3 people I asked who either didn’t get back to me after agreeing to do so or got back saying they were renaging their agreement to help. OK I know, life interferes and teachers are busy people. I appreciate their willingess to help in any case. The story is called Singing Quieter, and if you’re interested you can read it all *here*.
Mom and I had a talk tonight. She said she felt worried that I was depressed because my blog sounded so down. As we continued to talk further, however, she suggested an interesting idea: blogs happen when I feel strong emotions. Interesting, and true I think. When I’m feeling sad or depressed, what’s the first thing I want to do? Vent or somehow release the pressure. I used to do it by cutting myself, starving myself. Those ideas are still there in the back of my mind, but here’s a better idea: write it out. No harm in writing (unless you alarm concerned Moms or MiL’s), and it’s very cathartic: similar to poetry, Mom suggested. Reading many peoples’ poems you’d be surprised they didn’t blow their brains out at age 20. What you don’t know is that they actually lived pretty good lives and only composed poems when they felt very strongly about something – sad, upset, elated, joyous. In the same way, a journal like this shows the major spikes in emotion when in reality life travels on a fairly even keel with a few blips. The blips are what strike me and need writing about.
Alright. Everything is OK. I’ve eaten some leftover scalloped potatoes (guess we didn’t need 2 pans after all), fed Tiff and Jess, and they’re around talking. We learned something about the East Coast yesterday: grocery stores are closed Thanksgiving Day. Jess had gotten in a tad late for a major shopping trip Wednesday night, so we decided to wait and shop Thursday morning. WRONG! Price Chopper and Big Y, the major grocery stores around, close all day Thursday – nice for their employees, I’m sure, but for us and the numerous cars that drove through the parking lot in hopes they’d be able to buy last-minute canberry sauce, it wasn’t so great. So much for that.
I think I am going to throw up. I cannot, cannot handle this. I am nobody’s savior; I cannot even save myself. What does she expect me to be? The magical antidepressant? The enforcer of a no-harm contract? Happy?
I may update later if I can find the strength to do anything. Right now my stomach is clenched so tightly I feel ill and my whole body is shaking violently. Suffice it to say yesterday was both as bad and not as bad as I expected.
– KF –
They’re here, and the whole thing is far, far worse than I thought it could be. For all I like my friends, having them here all of yesterday with the knowledge of many such days stretching into the future just makes me want to cry. I realize this *is* the internet, so I will not say too much, but friends can be tiringly high maintenance. Last night I just wanted to retreat to our nice cozy room and do all our nighttime rituals. I suppose part of having friends is making sacrifices for them… Perhaps this isn’t fair of me, but I really feel like I put way more into relationships than any of my friends. If somebody is upset or troubled, I have stayed up during the night on the day before an exam to be there. I listen to peoples’ problems and sympathize. I act as hostess when I hate doing that – always have, even at home, only now the pressure is much worse because this is MY home, and it is MY responsibility to entertain guests.
Alright, admitedly today is *not* Thanksgiving, and I know that’s what everybody normal looks forward to. However, today is the day Jess and I have been counting down for since 60 or 70 days ago. Yay! I’m actually rather pooped already because we went to bed at midnight (aahh so late! 🙂 ) and I woke up ridiculously early. I wish I could tell my body, “OK sleep in today,” and it would wake up automatically at 10:00 or something. But instead it woke me up earlier than I have to get up during the school week. Cruel! But that’s actually not surprising because there’s an excitement factor as well, plus a nervousness factor with Tiff and Jess seeing each other for the first time in months. In fact, I don’t know when the last time they even talked was. I’m praying that they get along just great – or at least tolerably – but this could be a very strange and awkward situation.