one way course to self-hate city

Wednesday, September 4, 1996
10:15am, train

Back on every wagon I can find. No pot in the mornings, exercise, little notebooks. Saw Judith yesterday. Also had a Jackson hate-to-hell throwback as I saw Paula heading back over towards his place yesterday morning. Also the anger and guilt.

Had a very normal night yesterday with Ted, exercising and working, but cried a little when we said good night. It’s so hard to figure out.

I wrote half a kickass script, though, so how lousy can I feel? Judith seems to support what I’m doing re: the breakup. When I was doing yoga Monday night I kept letting myself know I’m doing the right thing. And as sad as I am, I am also happy, happy to be moving forward.

But I can’t remember what I dreamed last night. I don’t want to go over and over what I already know. I’m supposed to get together with Frank tonight, but I wonder if he remembers he has to go to White Plains.

Said to Ted last night, I’m so sick of living across the street from Jackson and Ava. I really am. I want to burn the past. I really do. I don’t want live the way I did. Especially the Paul/Jackson years. I just want to erase them. And still, the bitterness and regret, I’m still embarrassed of myself.

Reread my Old Me poem and thought it was stupid. There is enough pain and negativity without heaping more onto myself. I’m psyched that Judith is back but realize it’s not the cure-all-instantly I fantasized about.

And what do I fantasize about? Freedom from anger, guilt sadness. Sex. I fantasize about sex quite a bit these days. Love? No idea where I stand vis-à-vis love. It used to be the goal of life, now I don’t know. Not a sham, certainly, but not everything it promises, either. Oh well, I guess I won’t be the only person in the world who doesn’t understand love. And all of these people on the train, how many of their hearts are breaking, lovers leaving them or vice versa?

I’m looking forward to lunch with Hil, thought I probably can’t take a long one. Also looking forward to the joint I’ll be smoking. Didn’t smoke at all yesterday until after skating, after 8PM. Terrific. Then I smoked a joint and took some bong hits.

Well, I’m certainly on my own case, mothering me, but I want to be a cool mom. I want to be my own cool mom. My own cool, healthy, self protective, fun, vibrant, loving, happy, mom.

Thursday, September 5, 1996
10:15am, train

So, here I am again, waiting for the train, a little afraid to deal with my thoughts but still didn’t smoke. I have a column to write for this morning’s show. I also forgot the disk for Nerve.

Spent yesterday evening at Hil’s house with her and young Sam, then met Frank at Lucky Strike, then went back to his apartment. Was feeling so strange: separate, not passionate. He noted that I was high because I was slower and a little distant. I noted that he was nervous, wondering do we have anything to talk about besides work, our projects, who’s said what about us?

I didn’t come at first, because I couldn’t connect, but then it happened a few times and wound up feeling pretty close and caring. Don’t want to admit to Judith I’m seeing him, don’t want her to tell me to stop. Don’t want to feel guilty either, but obviously I’m on a one-way course to Self-Hate City right now or something.

Don’t know how to handle the situation with Ted. Do I ask him for my keys? Do I ask him to take his stuff? I feel like that’s the only/last step, but there’s more. Aren’t I going to continue seeing Ted, spending time with him? Why? Well, why not? He’s been a good friend. No, he hasn’t; he’s been a lover. How can we be friends? How can I have everything I want? I guess I have a whole bunch of room to grow since I have so many questions, such a sense of incompletion.

Frank asked me last night, what’s your dream? And I didn’t know, after the book and the book tour, I finally said my dream was to feel happy and to share that happiness with others. Once I would have said love. Love is my dream. But now I know love is not really an end in itself.

I want to feel satisfied. I want to go back to bed. I want to go back to last night’s bed with Frank. I want to be alone. I’m happy I didn’t smoke, but kind of still want to.

I feel creatively a little drained, sapped, dealing with people like Joey John all day. Trying to look/keep busy when I don’t know what to do.

Judith again today. Wish I was better at making it on my own. Don’t know what else to say.

Didn’t have any down time last night to myself. That’s another excuse to give Ted: my level of interaction is so high during the day, I need to be alone and quite at night.

Can’t believe the Frank thing is going stale so fast. Oh, well. I guess it’s not stale, just frightening, awkward, exhausting.

I need an end to this thing with Ted. Closure. The lingering pain and guilt, and then sometimes I feel not too much about it for hours while I think about other things, other people.

If I want my life to be all new and easier, I’ve got to make it easier on myself. So sad over Ted, so guilty. Help, Judith. Make everything seem cut and dried and clear. Take away the crushing burden of my unhappy feelings. Sadness.