// unwanted?/wanting
| 07/24/2003 - 7:55 p.m. |

email to C., Wed, 07-23-2003, 9:26pm, Subject: unwanted?
no idea what to say really.
s. was asking me last night if i was gonna call you, and i only-half-jokingly said 'well, i'll harass her by email for a while longer first'
damn, i so hate not knowing what the fuck is going on or what you're thinking or etc.

i guess i'm 'settling in' here.
or something.
thus far managing to avoid any, er, 'unwanted' conversations.
but i know my various dodging strategies will fail me soon.
and hell if i know then.

anyways...
thinking of you--
m. :/


reply from C., Thu, 07-24-2003, 2:50pm
M.,

I was out of the office for my big move and have come back to the "little move" of my office from the Access Department to the Inpt Unit. It has been awhile since I have had access to my PC.

I am not sure what it is that I can do to be helpful/supportive. I am not in a position to provide therapy (my contract prohibits it), but nothing is written in stone and so I can't say that is out of the question. The biggest issue for me has to do with what you want and for what purpose. It has felt for quite some time to me that you are not so much seeking help but rather have been hell-bent on a destructive course. I don't want to be a part of that. I am, as you know (or maybe do not know) pretty much in the dark as to your health and safety, but I am presuming at this point in time that you will need some time in hospital to reverse your downward spiral (I'm talking about your weight and intake). It is not at all clear to me that you can benefit right now from outpatient help.

I look forward to hearing from you.
Warm regards,

C.


email to C., Thu, 07-24-2003, 7:50pm, Subject: wanting
Hey C.,
Thanks for your reply. I know patience is not really a strength of mine, heh. Hope both moves are going as well as possible.

So...

>>It has felt for quite some time to me that you are not so much seeking help but rather have been hell-bent on a destructive course. I don't want to be a part of that.

I don't know that I haven't sought/wanted help.
It's more that nothing has actually *been* helpful, though I fault no one for that but myself.
I don't believe that I *can* be "helped" in truth, nor do I feel remotely worthy of being so.
Hope--for myself, for life, for a future, for anything--has long left the building.
So its felt like there is nothing else to do but destruct the body as thoroughly as the mind, et al. has already been.
And of *course* you want no part in that.

So what *is* it that *I* want and for what purpose?
I don't know.
Partly I want someone to just fucking acknowledge/confirm what I know to be true--that "I" am gone, that any and all attempts to bring me back are pointless and futile.
And I suppose that was/is part of my motivation in asking if you would work with me.
The logistical aspects aside even, my expectation/fantasy was/is that you would not, that I would put you in the position of having to say No, and that even if you *could* you *wouldn't* and wouldn't want to, because I am indeed not worth it, beyond hope.
And who more appropriate to provide me with the absolute proof? And what more masochistic means could there be for me?

But...All of that ugly truth indeed being the reality, the totality really of my *experience*, I am probably not being completely honest with myself if I don't acknowledge that there must be something else lurking somewhere too...

I actually kept a phone appointment with McR., the shrink, while on the road last week.
He wanted to know, WHY, if I feel so hopeless, so convinced in the pointlessness of any/everything, WHY I kept the appt, WHY do I keep appointments generally, WHY do I keep taking meds???
My responses were along the lines of well, I wanted to make sure I had prescriptions to carry me over; that's just what I do; and I dunno, habit.
His nature is way more optimistic that I can really stomach, but nevertheless, he didn't really buy my complete nonchalance...

On one hand, I feel like my harping on the point of how dead and completely absent of giving-a-fuck I am is simply me being honest, and my 'ethics' being the sole relic of any former self...yet there are these nagging questions about to what extent it may also be another tool in my self-destruction, this desire to convince everyone else, including you, of just how much I suck, because then of course they/you won't *want* to help me, which in turn will fuel the fire, and I can continue on my merry nihilistic way.
Which hardly smacks of integrity.

And there is the equally poking thought/fantasy, as I noted in that journal entry from a few weeks ago--
"If there is even the slightest, meagerist hope that I could ever be a 1/2 way functioning human being again...I feel like it would/could only lie in her [you]."

If I could even think that, write it down, send it to you, ask the question...then to what extent am I completely full of shit??

I know this is all rather disjointed, and I don't quite know myself what's what.
I truly am trying to be as honest as I can, trying to resist or at least balance the temptations of both telling you what I think you want to hear, that might actually possibly result in you "taking me back", and conversely, to essentially do the exact opposite.

>>I am, as you know (or maybe do not know) pretty much in the dark as to your health and safety, but I am presuming at this point in time that you will need some time in hospital to reverse your downward spiral (I'm talking about your weight and intake). It is not at all clear to me that you can benefit right now from outpatient help.

My 'health' is currently stable. For real.
I mean I knew damn well when I walked into Davis' office that day a month ago, that my blood pressure was seriously *fucked*.
I always know when I'm orthostatic, it's impossible not to--get dizzy and go blind every time you stand up, yeah, your blood pressure just dropped through the floor.
It's currently perfectly stable, has been for several weeks.
And that's really been the only physical issue I've ever had.
Plus, I exerted more physical energy with this moving crap in the past couple weeks, than I probably did in the past year or so comprehensively, and I've been a-ok.

And then of course there's the big H.
*sigh*
More journal excerpt sharing...this is from July 11th--

"...Funny thing is that I know the first thing she'd do, on the remote possibility we/I regressed into our previous relationship, is throw my ass in a hospital.
In fact she probably would have done exactly as D. did 2 weeks ago.
In fact I know D. did exactly what she should have most likely and the tenor of my hurt and anger, while not invalid, is indeed evidence of why she didn't see any other choice.
Somehow though, I continue to believe that it simply never would/could have gotten to this point if I'd still been with C..."

How much might I regret sharing that little gem? *shudder*

Anyways, as I've noted, the extent to which I have any real faith in being capable of benefitting from any kind of help, IP or outpatient, even from you...well, if not nonexistent, at least nondetectable.
And there I go again, unable to tease apart to myself even how genuine that statement truly is or isn't. Blech.
What is certainly true is that I am very resistant to pretty much everything right now.
But nothing moreso than hospitalization.
For so so many reasons, but most immediately prominent in my mind at the moment, is that I canNOT even deal with *thinking* about one more way in which every fucking thing is taken out of my control, one more set of people making one more giant set of choices FOR me.
I have so very very little C., as if thats not glaringly obvious...
...and...

...and I've been working on this email for nearly 2 hours now I think, and anything else there is to be said is gonna have to wait, cuz my brain has officially been pushed too far past its limited functional capacity.

I look forward to hearing from *you*...(er, i think)
Hugs?,
M.