Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Tall Women Carrying Heavy Things

"There's an old saying about those who forget history. I don't remember it, but it's good." 

~  Stephen Colbert

6:00 pm

Feeling a little blah, here on my last night in hop-sital. We are in our beds, waiting for Sweet Aussie Sue, who is going to take us outside for a walk, after we do our Check Out.

Was having a really good day, discussed my plans for the interim period between eating disorder programs with Kali, the dietician I don't want to kill, and she seemed to think I had a good handle on things. 

Then I called M, and he once again asked me if I thought I was ready to leave the hop-sital yet or not. Why does he keep fucking asking me that? 

Is there something I can't see? It's starting to freak me out. I feel like I have all these fail-safes in place, but what if I am missing something? What can't I see? 

My parents are home on Thursday, which is why I asked to be ejected from hop-sital that day. But as it turns out, they are leaving for the mountains on Friday morning for the whole weekend, driving back and forth between two mountain cities, neither of which have meetings I can attend. So I tried to come up with an alternative plan, one that didn't make me want to shoot myself in the face quite so much.

I thought I could ask my parents to stay in town for the Friday night, then Saturday during the day I could go to a bunch of groups and meetings, and then spend Saturday evening with M and crash overnight on his couch. Sunday morning I would start with my groups and meetings again, until my parents came home in the afternoon.

I proposed my idea to M, but it was met with an awkward silence. Then, "I'm sorry, Kagie. I just don't think that's a good idea."

"Oh," I said, immediately pissed.

Uh oh, here we go, I thought suddenly. I knew where this was going, didn't I? I told myself to remove my head from my own arse, and try to see things from his perspective, and to empathize - I have done so many things wrong to this guy, and hurt him so much! Get out of your own ass, Kg!

But I'm sober now, fuck you! I thought back.

Yeah, but you are the girl who cried suicide, you fuck retard. You gotta earn back your stripes.

So I am currently watching myself closely, and watching for signs of trouble. Sure enough, my thinking has tried to go there - my feelings are hurt, he said I couldn't stay there so he must not love me anymore, I want to hurt him back, etc, etc. All the ugly shit that I sifted through over the weekend, only I didn't realize I was doing it then. Then, I was the victim, and I had tunnel vision - all I could see was my own hurt.

Ugh. Gross.

So now, while my feelings are still a bit raw, let's do this thing. Let's hop into M's shoes and have a looksie, shall we, Kagie? Why would M think it not a good idea for you to stay at his house this weekend? 

I don't have time to make the list alphabetical:

- You might drink
- You might use
- You might barf
- You might run away
- You might attempt suicide
- You might try to go take off your clothes for money
- You and he are just friends, you can't just announce you're spending the fucking night
- Maybe he has other plans
- He's not your goddamn baby-sitter, or your mum
- He prolly doesn't want to be responsible for someone as bonkers as you
- Look at how you have acted in his house before
- You're a right pain in the arse

Gee, I feel tons better. 

Ha ha! Just kidding. For some reason, I actually do. I wouldn't want to baby-sit my sorry ass either, I'm fucking NUTS.

Rahahahahahahahahaha! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. 

I do feel sorry for my parents, though. 

They don't have a choice. They're stuck with me.

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