// independence day
| 07/04/2003 - 12:05 p.m. |

Happy fucking 4th of July.
Gah, I hate holidays.
Especially obnoxious patriotic ones with long weekends and people being all happy-and-carefree-and-shit.

So I didn't get the past 3 messages my mom left, increasingly frantic, until this morning.
Yes, I know I suck and should have checked-in with her each day on my own.
But I'm lazy and inconsiderate like that.
It just takes so damn much energy to speak.
And then to have to try to pretend that I actually care about what's going on with me, have any interest at all in anything.
Ugh.

I left her a voice mail message.

I also woke up to an email from my aunt c. noting that my mom was anxious to hear from me and was on her way down there for the weekend.
So I called there as well--mom hadn't arrived yet, was making a stop in AC along the way--oh surprise, heh.

But I got to get the third degree from my aunt:
what am I doing to do?
my decision-making capacity is all kinds of faulty.
why can't I recognize that the professionals and others know better and put "blind faith" in them
because my belligerence/resistance has never helped me
and am I prepared to enter intensive tx back east
because neither her and uncle j. (which i knew)
nor my aunt j.
are going to let me stay with them and enable me.

I noted that I have been looking into various support groups and 12-step stuff out there
(kept to myself that it's admittedly with the idea that that could be just enough to appease people while I continue my march to obliteration)
which my aunt has always pushed,
but I am SICK of "treatment."

*sigh*

She doesn't at all get the experience of depression and hopelessness anywhere near as severe as mine.
But I know she means well and loves me and is scared for me.
Hell, I know she's right.

I.just.don't.care.

...Still obsessed/distracting/escaping with the old journals.
Who the fuck is that person who wrote them?
So full of feeling (and contradiction),
so eager and full of fight
and resolutely searching for growth and passion--
possessing such heart.

Cuz it sure as hell isn't me.