diarrhea, sweats, nausea, sorrow
Tuesday, September 10th, 1996
10:20am, train
Should have written last night. Two a.m, head spinning, unable to sleep. Realized how much of the Joey John problem is stemming from anger I can’t admit elsewhere and how I’m totally using Frank to not feel pain over Ted, which I’m just going to have to feel. Also angry at Judith. What the fuck. It’s not a logical anger, okay? An emotional one, a true one. Anger.
Thinking about quitting performing at the Saturday night parties. Thinking I’d better check myself re: how angry I am and how hard it sometimes feels to keep myself in check. Of course, I want something new and fun and sexy. Don’t want to be seen as overreacting or being immature. I don’t quit this Saturday night, maybe.
Oh, I’ve been putting my hands together and asking for good care, for love, acceptance and guidance, nurture, shelter. And I know I’m trying and I know it will work. There will always be days and situations where I feel discouraged. I just feel that the situation at work, it’s so obvious, so grossly unfair, but I’ve seen this before.
Well, it’s a good thing I’m getting to get to know myself. Yes, comfort, peace, goodness. These are the things I ask myself for. And, maybe, I should ask something besides me. Maybe it’s time to believe in something besides myself, if I even believe in me.
Sometimes when trying to clear my thoughts, I get scared because underneath the chatter, what if there’s nothing? What if I’m all chatter? And besides that, I wouldn’t even notice if I were conscious. I feel like I’m being very serious and profound, or like I’m trying very hard.
Okay. So, it felt good to be with Frank last night and I want it to feel good. I trailed off just as we hit the bridge. I had a little pot this morning, but obviously not enough. And I said to Frank, “So, what are we going to do when we’re not trading compliments and having sex?”
Josh asked me to manage this Microsoft pitch project. And I really don’t want harsh judgment from Judith nor do I want to act like my mom. Too guilty to feel the anger I know I have. Thinking this morning on 8th Avenue, was I ever happy and unclouded with Ted, or was I always doubtful about him? Staying with him so long was cruel. I know I’m being hyperbolic and hyper-emotional.
Overanalyze, that’s what the tarot reader said I do. And also, I’m a control freak like my mother. Oy vey. Now that’s crazy. That’s a frightening thing to try to give up. And if I was a man, why would I try to give it up? Do I really hate men the way I often profess to? Oh, guilt and anger, how boring. Here I am at the circus.
Later, train
On my way home. Left work early as per Galinsky’s suggestion/offer/request. Still quite fucked up, angry, sad. What else is new. Judith really let me know what a fucked up jerk I’m being, choosing to be. Asking me why do I think people are so offended when people who have lost a spouse start dating again quickly. Because it makes it seem as though the dead person were unimportant.
So, okay, my relationship with Ted was important. Right now my eyes are filling with tears, thinking Judith just doesn’t like me. She said, “If I’m going to re-raise you, then I’m going to call you on your shit.”
Well, if you’re going to re-raise me, where the fuck were you for five weeks in August? I hardly ate today. Just didn’t feel like it. I guess I’m being self-punishing and it doesn’t help. Maybe it isn’t Judith that doesn’t like me, but me.
I don’t like the way I’ve acted. I wish I hadn’t started an affair with Frank. It’s really complicated things for me, and yet I don’t want to end it. Don’t ever want to put it on hold. Don’t know what I want to do, and don’t have to decide tonight, but I have to cry and cry and eat something and buy cat food. Judith implied I’m a bad mother to my cat.
I told Galinsky I’m not going to do Saturday nights. He was thrown. Good. Sent an email to Hil, hope she’s okay. I’m planning to take a vacation. Not next week, but the week after. But where? I do miss Ted, the comfort of being with someone, going away together.
What a terrible therapy session, but I know it helps. I know. I have to admit, I feel empty and sad. I guess that’s Judith’s style. Very confrontational and tough. Yeah, I need a break from work. I need to deal with myself and not do things that make me feel shitty later. I need love to come from somewhere and I don’t know where, because it never seems like enough. I need to start over fresh. I want to start over fresh. But how? How? Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow.
Wednesday, September 11, 1996
Noon, home
Shaky and a little sick after a hard day and night. Diarrhea, sweats, nausea, sorrow, but feeling somewhat clearer. Yeah, I feel awful physically, somewhat better psychically. Judith isn’t the one who thinks I suck. I am. And I don’t think I suck, I think I made some immature decision and I hope I can fix and stall things so that nobody gets hurt. But I don’t think I suck.
I went after Frank because I was sad and angry over Ted. Also because of my attraction and connection with Frank. Oy, I feel sick. Maybe I’m trying to put it behind me too soon, “it” being the feeling I experienced yesterday. I don’t know how I’m going to make it through the day. I can’t concentrate at all.
Ted spent the night last night. Now that was comfort, except every time the phone rang. I don’t want to write right now. It’s too hard and I feel blank. I’ll just start over today. I’ll start over.