(no subject)
This past week I have mostly been depressed. More so than usual. The type of drag yourself out of bed depression. The kind where enjoyment becomes a sense that has been dulled to the point where you forget what it feels like and begin to wonder if in fact it really exists at all. And then you get depressed that your so depressed and it becomes a cycle. Today my body really felt like total shit. I had a searing pain in my left side for a couple of hours and then it went away. But my whole body was cramped and tight and tense. I was so tense that it was painful to stretch. I spent the evening sitting on the couch watching the discovery health channel with hopes that I would actually learn something. There was an episode called mysetery diagnosis where they document peoples mysterious illnesses and in the end they tell you what it ended up being. Anyway, the guy was a cardiologist married to an oncologist and all the sudden came down with a life threatening fever and was vomiting twenty times an hour and everything. Anyway, they go through his whole ordeal, how he was hospitalized three times and everytime he went home,he would eat a meal and the symptoms would return again and he would have to be rushed back to the hospital where he would fight for his life for weeks. So since he was a doctor all his collegues were taking care of him and they were all baffled about what was wrong. And his wife claimed that they went to peru and that maybe he had typhoid fever. Anyway, it was a long long medical drama. Then it turns out that the wife who was also a doctor ended up being the cause of his illness... she was poisoning him with riacin which is ten times more deadly than cobra venom, it's the third most toxic substance in the world. Then before he accuses her, he has her baker acted because she threatened him with a knife and was mixing alcohol with chemotherapy medication. Then, she gets out of the looney bin, he goes to a hotel for the night and he gets a call from his neighbor that his house is on fire. And the saddest thing of all, was that two of his kids were inside and they didn't make it out alive and they concluded that the wife set the fire. Can you believe that? And they were married for seventeen years and this is a true story. She got life in prison and this woman was a doctor! But can u imagine. I tune in thinking I'm in for a medical mystery and instead I get a life lesson: Trust No One, or rather an affirmation that life is really really really really SHIT.
I mean, I am supposed to get my period like...tomorrow or the next day and I'm wondering if my hormones could be to blame for my general blahness and carelessness and hopelessness or if I am entering a classic and clinically defined depression.
I guess I'll talk to my therapist tommorrow about it, I don't really know what to say though exactly. I think the best sessions come about by me not pre thinking what I am going to say or what I am going to talk about.
I've been thinking alot about Jill lately. I really want closure, but I find it so hard to grieve for someone who was a huge part of my life, well she was basically my life for three years, but when it happened we hadn't talked for so long. Especially since I never awnsered back to a letter she had written me a couple months before she died. I wish that my mother were a little more intelligent and would have not given away all the pictures I had of her, many that I had taken and little keepsakes all compiled in a box and given them to her parents. That was all I had to remember her by. That was really all I had to make it seem like the time we shared together was real and concrete. I have memories, but they are like a dream. When I remember things, it almost feels as though I am remembering something that never happened. And just, the way she died. Horrible. I think it would have been better for me not to know that she was alive and concious and scared as hell knowing that she was going to die than being told a lie that she died instantly. I can't imagine the type of grief her parents face on a daily basis. I guess the basis of my grief isn't exactly for myself. Who is to say we would have been friends still. I think it is more that I grieve for the loss of her life. Yea, that's it. I grieve essentially for her and the life she lost, rather than any loss that I endured. It really is true that the good die young. And everyone says it when someone dies, but she really really really loved life. So I'm sad for her that she didn't get to be here to long.
I guess the best day of my life was one I spent with her. It just happens to be a day I remember, unlike the others that I can't really recall. I know there were many but it all seems kind of hazy, with bits and fragments standing out. I can't remember this day exactly but I do remember it was how we always spent our fridays- her house, are you afraid of the dark was on at 8:00 and we were lying down on a huge pillow in front of the t.v. This time, after it was over she had an idea to go to living room and line up pillows straight across the floor from one side to the other and play capture the flag. We were both in huge oversize t-shirts that were hers because all her clothes had been washed so many times that they were so unbelievably soft. And we had socks on and flannel pajama bottoms and her dog was playing also. Then her mom was shaking her head at us like we were silly. And most moms would be pissed that their kid took all their pillows off the couch and was running around in the living room, but not her mom. Her house was carpeted everywhere except the kitchen and none of the furniture was fancy and nothing really matched. But I never thought of it as worn, just comfortable. And she said "Girls we're going to Burger King". And I remember I was going to change clothes, and Jill said don't change, it's better to go in pajamas. And so we did. We went in oversize t-shirts, pajama bottoms, and socks. And of course her mom didn't mind. And the dog came running to the door like it wanted to go to and sure enough, it piled right on in the car. And we drove to burger king and the whole way we were laughing. And as we ordered, her mom was telling us that coke tasted funny in Paris and Jill was saying " Oh mom, coke is the same everywhere" and the mom was saying " Jill, you've never been to Paris how do you know it tastes the same" and they were playfully arguing back and forth. And we drove away, eating our fries, and feeding some to the dog and it was really in these moments I realized I was carefree, I had no worries in the world, and that life in all it's simplicity was good. The mom came in to her bedroom later and gave us some archie comic books and told us how she used to love reading them when she was our age, and then we snuck into the garage to peek at the dollhouse her dad was building her. And I remember Jill saying to her dad that it wouldn't be ready untill the toilets had running water. And he was sawcastically saying " Okay Jill, Sure Jill whatever you want." I remember she thought it would be so funny if she would be able to flush a toilet in her dollhouse. When her parents went to bed we went into the kicthen to get some fruit roll ups and she was feeding ice to her dog because she said " he loves it" and when we went to sleep that night I remember feeling safe and feeling happy and feeling like a child. I remember being excited and happy and fulfilled at the smallest most trivial things ever. And the dog slept with us. The next morning I remember her dog licking my face at 9 a.m. on a saturday which was really early for me. I didn't know what I would do the next day but I did know that I would spend it with her and that most likely it would involve icecream cones, making fun of her weird, reclusive brother and playing Sega on his bed and that we would both wear clothes that didn't match. But that was okay, because it felt really good to not be so perfect. I would give anything to go back to that time in my life. I was so lucky to become friends with her. I knew it from the moment I saw her in Mrs. Trifelleti's third grade class with her tweety bird looney toon shoes that she would make the perfect best friend. I guess, even as a child, your able to sense who is special. So on my 8th birthday party, I invited her to come and it was at a Planet Hollywood amongst an enormous ice cream sundae that we starting laughing and smearing icecream all over our faces for the first time. I wish that I'll have that again one day, where I meet someone and feel like I've known them forever.
I miss those times.
I mean, I am supposed to get my period like...tomorrow or the next day and I'm wondering if my hormones could be to blame for my general blahness and carelessness and hopelessness or if I am entering a classic and clinically defined depression.
I guess I'll talk to my therapist tommorrow about it, I don't really know what to say though exactly. I think the best sessions come about by me not pre thinking what I am going to say or what I am going to talk about.
I've been thinking alot about Jill lately. I really want closure, but I find it so hard to grieve for someone who was a huge part of my life, well she was basically my life for three years, but when it happened we hadn't talked for so long. Especially since I never awnsered back to a letter she had written me a couple months before she died. I wish that my mother were a little more intelligent and would have not given away all the pictures I had of her, many that I had taken and little keepsakes all compiled in a box and given them to her parents. That was all I had to remember her by. That was really all I had to make it seem like the time we shared together was real and concrete. I have memories, but they are like a dream. When I remember things, it almost feels as though I am remembering something that never happened. And just, the way she died. Horrible. I think it would have been better for me not to know that she was alive and concious and scared as hell knowing that she was going to die than being told a lie that she died instantly. I can't imagine the type of grief her parents face on a daily basis. I guess the basis of my grief isn't exactly for myself. Who is to say we would have been friends still. I think it is more that I grieve for the loss of her life. Yea, that's it. I grieve essentially for her and the life she lost, rather than any loss that I endured. It really is true that the good die young. And everyone says it when someone dies, but she really really really loved life. So I'm sad for her that she didn't get to be here to long.
I guess the best day of my life was one I spent with her. It just happens to be a day I remember, unlike the others that I can't really recall. I know there were many but it all seems kind of hazy, with bits and fragments standing out. I can't remember this day exactly but I do remember it was how we always spent our fridays- her house, are you afraid of the dark was on at 8:00 and we were lying down on a huge pillow in front of the t.v. This time, after it was over she had an idea to go to living room and line up pillows straight across the floor from one side to the other and play capture the flag. We were both in huge oversize t-shirts that were hers because all her clothes had been washed so many times that they were so unbelievably soft. And we had socks on and flannel pajama bottoms and her dog was playing also. Then her mom was shaking her head at us like we were silly. And most moms would be pissed that their kid took all their pillows off the couch and was running around in the living room, but not her mom. Her house was carpeted everywhere except the kitchen and none of the furniture was fancy and nothing really matched. But I never thought of it as worn, just comfortable. And she said "Girls we're going to Burger King". And I remember I was going to change clothes, and Jill said don't change, it's better to go in pajamas. And so we did. We went in oversize t-shirts, pajama bottoms, and socks. And of course her mom didn't mind. And the dog came running to the door like it wanted to go to and sure enough, it piled right on in the car. And we drove to burger king and the whole way we were laughing. And as we ordered, her mom was telling us that coke tasted funny in Paris and Jill was saying " Oh mom, coke is the same everywhere" and the mom was saying " Jill, you've never been to Paris how do you know it tastes the same" and they were playfully arguing back and forth. And we drove away, eating our fries, and feeding some to the dog and it was really in these moments I realized I was carefree, I had no worries in the world, and that life in all it's simplicity was good. The mom came in to her bedroom later and gave us some archie comic books and told us how she used to love reading them when she was our age, and then we snuck into the garage to peek at the dollhouse her dad was building her. And I remember Jill saying to her dad that it wouldn't be ready untill the toilets had running water. And he was sawcastically saying " Okay Jill, Sure Jill whatever you want." I remember she thought it would be so funny if she would be able to flush a toilet in her dollhouse. When her parents went to bed we went into the kicthen to get some fruit roll ups and she was feeding ice to her dog because she said " he loves it" and when we went to sleep that night I remember feeling safe and feeling happy and feeling like a child. I remember being excited and happy and fulfilled at the smallest most trivial things ever. And the dog slept with us. The next morning I remember her dog licking my face at 9 a.m. on a saturday which was really early for me. I didn't know what I would do the next day but I did know that I would spend it with her and that most likely it would involve icecream cones, making fun of her weird, reclusive brother and playing Sega on his bed and that we would both wear clothes that didn't match. But that was okay, because it felt really good to not be so perfect. I would give anything to go back to that time in my life. I was so lucky to become friends with her. I knew it from the moment I saw her in Mrs. Trifelleti's third grade class with her tweety bird looney toon shoes that she would make the perfect best friend. I guess, even as a child, your able to sense who is special. So on my 8th birthday party, I invited her to come and it was at a Planet Hollywood amongst an enormous ice cream sundae that we starting laughing and smearing icecream all over our faces for the first time. I wish that I'll have that again one day, where I meet someone and feel like I've known them forever.
I miss those times.