and the consequences
Monday, November 2nd, 2009 10:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
erikaThis has been transcribed from an entry in my paper journal.
Sitting here in PPH, waiting for my appointment. There's no clock here so I have no idea if this will count for my ten minutes but I can't be fucked to care, since I haven't had a cigarette in—well, since before I went to bed.
The really insidious thing about cigarette use is that it becomes both a habit and a crutch. It's habit now for me to light one up before I start reading my friends' page, or log onto WoW.
And it's a crutch because I light one up every time I get anxious, or have time to kill.
Note: I never thought that I'd turn into one of those women who wear makeup whenever they leave the house, but in order to camoflague the dark circles under my eyes from where I haven't slept, or haven't slept well, or just because they like to be there to torment me——I wear eye makeup. Not concealer, because that ironically draws attention to the area, but like eyeshadow and mascara.
Helpful hint—if you're wearing eye makeup and trying not to cry, a good way to do it is look up and think about how you'd hate to be seen with runny mascara. Takes your mind off everything that was threatening to make you cry in the first place.
I wish I had a job. I know that Bear thinks it's too much, too soon, but I really want something to do.
One problem with having one's birthday in this month is that every time I go to fill out paperwork instead of writing the proper date and putting 2009, I put 1985 because that's the year I was born.
The staff here is listening to Regina Spektor.
Guess it's a good thing I don't have anything to do until 1:30pm, when I'm meeting an acquaintance from my volunteering at my old elementary school. Her name is Kristin.
Volunteering at my old elementary school... what's that like—well, it's fun, first of all. There are about 30 adults paired up with 30 kids, and we're separated out into 2 rooms to help them with homework. I know "fun" doesn't necessarily come to mind when one thinks about helping a 5th grader with their homework but it's nice. And it's good for me to get out of the house—at least that's what my SCL worker and my therapist keep trying to con me into believing.
I should've brought a book.
Can't imagine a life without you.
You forced me to.
Finally——the cold relief of a pink slip,
ripping off a bandaid, finally going to the dentist.
Finally.
Not much real relief at all.
Just something to think about, when
I'm lying awake
in the spaces you used to occupy.
Forget it, I'll never be a poet.
I'll never have the shining barbed tongue of Parker,
or the breathless wit to coin an epigram.
To circumscribe a circumstance so neatly in aphorism.
Make you think, make you wince, make you cry.
EVOKE EMOTION.
Perhaps it is because there is none left in me.
I am wrung dry as my hair after a shower,
no longer dripping, barely merely damp.
My language expansive, my heart contracting.
I fear I have nothing left.
To say, to do, to be, to feel.
Okay, it's definitely been more than 10 minutes. I really want a cigarette. Also I wish I'd brought my cell phone.
Sitting here in PPH, waiting for my appointment. There's no clock here so I have no idea if this will count for my ten minutes but I can't be fucked to care, since I haven't had a cigarette in—well, since before I went to bed.
The really insidious thing about cigarette use is that it becomes both a habit and a crutch. It's habit now for me to light one up before I start reading my friends' page, or log onto WoW.
And it's a crutch because I light one up every time I get anxious, or have time to kill.
Note: I never thought that I'd turn into one of those women who wear makeup whenever they leave the house, but in order to camoflague the dark circles under my eyes from where I haven't slept, or haven't slept well, or just because they like to be there to torment me——I wear eye makeup. Not concealer, because that ironically draws attention to the area, but like eyeshadow and mascara.
Helpful hint—if you're wearing eye makeup and trying not to cry, a good way to do it is look up and think about how you'd hate to be seen with runny mascara. Takes your mind off everything that was threatening to make you cry in the first place.
I wish I had a job. I know that Bear thinks it's too much, too soon, but I really want something to do.
One problem with having one's birthday in this month is that every time I go to fill out paperwork instead of writing the proper date and putting 2009, I put 1985 because that's the year I was born.
The staff here is listening to Regina Spektor.
Guess it's a good thing I don't have anything to do until 1:30pm, when I'm meeting an acquaintance from my volunteering at my old elementary school. Her name is Kristin.
Volunteering at my old elementary school... what's that like—well, it's fun, first of all. There are about 30 adults paired up with 30 kids, and we're separated out into 2 rooms to help them with homework. I know "fun" doesn't necessarily come to mind when one thinks about helping a 5th grader with their homework but it's nice. And it's good for me to get out of the house—at least that's what my SCL worker and my therapist keep trying to con me into believing.
I should've brought a book.
Can't imagine a life without you.
You forced me to.
Finally——the cold relief of a pink slip,
ripping off a bandaid, finally going to the dentist.
Finally.
Not much real relief at all.
Just something to think about, when
I'm lying awake
in the spaces you used to occupy.
Forget it, I'll never be a poet.
I'll never have the shining barbed tongue of Parker,
or the breathless wit to coin an epigram.
To circumscribe a circumstance so neatly in aphorism.
Make you think, make you wince, make you cry.
EVOKE EMOTION.
Perhaps it is because there is none left in me.
I am wrung dry as my hair after a shower,
no longer dripping, barely merely damp.
My language expansive, my heart contracting.
I fear I have nothing left.
To say, to do, to be, to feel.
Okay, it's definitely been more than 10 minutes. I really want a cigarette. Also I wish I'd brought my cell phone.
