Verstehen is impossible to acheive.

Interesting how in five years my thoughts haven’t really changed, I’ve just lost my witty sarcastic way with words. Eheh. These are reposts. Apparently what I thought was one of my first sessions actually wasn’t, tho I’m not sure how long I’d been in therapy at that point, cuz I didn’t start an online journal until January-ish of 2000, I think. Eheh. My name then was “Imbrium” Fun.

Ah. Back in the day. When Mouserz was still in my life and I was still communicating with Patrick. April 98 was when I went to Arizona. April 99 was when L shoved me on to the…the…uh…the “road to recovery?” Eheh. Was when she dragged me to Crisis Intervention where I rambled and totally pretended I was ok to Elizabeth-with-the-too-short-skirts who I still deal with on occasion at the psych center. she’s one of the ones who tries so often to sneak things in under our radar. I don’t like her. (apparently tho, her ex is the owner of the place where I have the job interview next week…). April 00 I went to WV and met my evieluv who I’d known for years online…lah. And I dunno where the next year of my OD is. Somewhere in the HD of my computer I’m sure.

I meant to go to bed an hour ago. Still need to take my meds.

Anyways….my memory isn’t perfect- this is prolly a more accurate recollection of the moment….

Birfumdays – 3/8/2000

Well, I just wrote a whole long entry but it got erased and now I’m pissed so I’ll go write it again later, cuz it was actually half cheerful. Pltzzzz.

More About Birfumdays – 3/8/2000

Ok. So I shall now try to recreate the entry that got erased earlier.
Er. I don’t rmr a thing about what I was saying earlier. Cuz I was in a good mood then, and I’m not so much now! Hey, Kids. Alcohol’s a depressant! hahahahahaaa. Pltzzzz.
Anyways.
So. Birfumdays. Birfumdays are for meant for lots of ppl calling you up and asking you what you did before the day is even half begun. That’s what I’ve decided!
Actually, being that I am antisocial and have more friends online than off, more ppl emailed than called.
My mum called me…she was like “Hi! It’s your mother.” [nooo, i thought it was that strange swahili woman who kept calling asking if I had any sporks] “It’s your birthday. you’re 21! did you remember?” [nope. I forgot. silly me.] I was the good daughter tho, and said “Yes. I remembered. thank you” She asked what I did today. [First, I took over the world. Next: Disneyland.] “I went to classes and studied.” heh. Neither of which I did. I skipped both my classes today and I didn’t study at all. I did go to my counseling appt. But since she doesn’t know I’m in therapy, I chose not to tell her. Heh. I told her Sara was taking me to the bar, Sara and Kel. She took it rather well.
Patrick called too. He chided me about the drinking. Pltzzz. He didn’t believe I never drank. Whatever. Just because several of my brothers began drinking when they were like in the womb…
Anyways. He said my card would be late. But he hinted that he might find me a used guitar…I woulda normally said Don’t Bother, just get me something small, but well. He owes me. *shrugs*
Other peeps called too….D left a msg on my machine, H called on my machine too…G I got to talk to, yaaay. I don’t see them enough anymore..G and D I mean. Or H for that matter. But I’m sorta kinda used to not seeing H so much.
And lotsa peeps emailed me :o) I must admit, I sort of like the attention I get on my birthday, as long as it’s limited to that day. Not the attention even…just the fact that people acknowledge my existence.
And Mrs P, an art teacher I had in high skewl, and Donna, the mother of an old hs friend (I’m better friends with Donna than with her daughter, whom I went to skewl with..) both sent me birfumday caaards. With sparklies (confettie) in them.
And Sara gave me my gift last nite…a blow up bunnie and a teddy bear, and Mousie sang happy birthday to meeee. Which was awesomely wonderful.
Hmmm. What else?
Had therapy session today. It was ok. Well. I was jittery before I went, jittery the whole time, a little, and Jittery after I left. Went thru a whole little panic thing after I got home, that was…fun.
Hmm. Now I have a headache and don’t feel especially good. Sara and Kel took me to the Dew Drop Inn. We had wings and french fries. I also had a zima and an alabama slammer. The buzz was nice. After the buzz sucks. No wonder people get drunk. Because after the buzzz *really* sucks. Or for me it does/did. Or perhaps that’s just in my head. I think I didn’t drink enough to have any bad physical remnants in the morning. But the emotional ones will be more than sufficient to make up for that.
Such is life. I knew that going in. Maybe it won’t be so bad. pshaw. How does he manage to ruin things even when I try so hard to not let him ruin things? Not fair not fair!

Now I lay me down not to sleep… – 3/9/2000

“There’s a lot I’ll never do, some fantastic, I know it’s true…”
Music is song and song is words and words are life and so music is life. “I can’t believe you believe in anything I say that I didn’t hear from you or someone else”
I should be studying for my sociology exam. It is a midterm. I desperately need to do well on it, seeing as there are only two exams in the class. “Bye bye self respect, I haven’t had much of it since you left”
I had a therp appt yesterday as I mentioned in one of yesterday’s entries (well, it seems like today to me since it’s 4am and I haven’t been to bed yet) And I am thinking now about what was said. And I’m realizing every day/session/whatever, how fortunate I am, because I seem to have stumbled upon a really really awesome therp. I hear stories every day now about therapists and psychologists who are manipulative and stubborn and stuck in their ways. I’m sooooooo glad I found someone who is none of those. She’s quite nice, calming, understanding. Of course *smiles* I guess she could be manipulating me and I don’t know about it, because if anyone knows how to fuck with people’s heads, it’s got to be psychologists, right?! But you know what? I don’t know if I care right now. She treats me nice and she listens to what I say and she provides feedback and that’s the point of it all. And she’s got kewl clothes. AAAAND!!!! And she “gets it!” […]I’m referring to the fact that she gets “it.” Like…my oddities. Uhm. I’m not making sense….my randomness. I guess that’s it. She gets the randomness. She picks up on lots of the allusions I use, so I don’t have to explain them. She knows that just because I crack inane jokes in the middle of a serious discussion it doesn’t mean I’m disregarding what she’s saying.
See, I’m somewhat(read:VERY) dependent on DH…Defense Humour. Lots of people don’t get that. It’s just how I cope, I suppose, with certain stress. I laugh about it. Even if it’s ripping me apart. I don’t know why I do this. I know it’s totally innapropriate sometimes. But…such is me. Anyways…my point is that…she gets Me, a little. More than lots of people do, I guess. Er…where was I going with this?
Oh. Yes. I started out with the thought that I don’t want to be coherent. We talked today(yesterday) about many many things. One of them was about coherence, sort of. You see, I always feel like I’m talking and jabbering and not making any sense. Because none of anything makes sense in my head. It just goes round and round and never sits down. So, when I am in her office, I try my best to be coherent. And we got on the discussion about it today because she was saying that I always *said* I was being incoherent, but that she doesn’t *think* of me as incoherent. (Am I being incoherent yet? *grin*) So I told her that…well, when I am there talking to her, it’s different. There is another person. And as I learned four hundred times in my communications class…a message has to go from A to B and back to A again to be a complete communication or some such thing. But when I was by myself, it was just A to A and so things didn’t have to make that much sense because it was only me and I’m used to not knowing what’s happening in my head. But when *she* enters the picture, I have to try to make sense of things so she can understand and I don’t just stare at the wall for an hour ever[y] week.
And her response was interesting. It’s made me think. She said she didn’t want me to *be* coherent for her…she didn’t want me to *be* something I wasn’t just because she was there. It sorta makes me laugh because if I didn’t force myself into coherency, she’d prolly run from the room within half an hour..;o) I dunno. I sorta *do* have to “be something” for her because…I don’t know. It’s like, one hour a week that I can just go in there and spout to someone face to face. I have to try to make sense, because what if I don’t make sense and she doesn’t make sense back to me? Why would I pay $xx.xx to do that? But. Then again, she *is* a psychologist. She would probably find a way to make sense back to me.
Grrrr. Exceeded limit…so. To Be Continued….

Another Sleepless Night’s Begun. – 3/9/2000

When I got there today(yesterday) I was a bit early, and she came in right behind me, so we went to her office and then she went out to freshen up or whatnot, and I walked over to the window because I was curious as to the view. She had opened the window a bit before she left and the breeze was nice. I was just sorta kneeling down, looking out under the blinds. I didn’t even hear her come back in and I prolly jumped when she said, so quietly I just barely heard her, “beautiful day outside, isn’t it?” hehe. I wonder how long she’d been standing there? But, it didn’t bother me. Sometimes, that would bother me, like when I am deep in thought about icky slimey stuff or something, and someone makes their presence known, it freaks me out. Like “What if they heard my thoughts” But, I was actually trying hard at the moment to just look at the mountains and not think since I was already so anxious and we hadn’t even begun yet. It was an interesting experience, I guess. I don’t know why I’m recalling it. I think cuz at that moment I woulda been quite pleased had she came over and given me a hug or something.
That is one thing that bothers me. I always want to hug her at the end of the appt or something…a handshake..anything. But I don’t. I’m a very…touchy-feely person? I am always needing or wanting physical contact with people…I’m addicted to hugs. It’s my natural reaction to hug people. Of course, in this day and age, I can’t hug many people, so the people I *do* know I can hug get hugged lots by me! But I don’t know many around here.
But that opens a whole other issue. Of dependency. I don’t want to become dependent on her. I attatch myself far too quickly to people. Not *all* people. I’m not re I’m not really random as to who I attatch myself to (tho it might seem that way, I always have my reasons even if they’re frivolous and nonsensical) But when I find someone with attatchability qualities…I have to watch close how far I let myself get attatched. I try alot to not attatch to *anyone* but, well, it happens. And I kick myself in the arse every time, because I should know better. I tend to ya know…not be a good friend sometimes. Too unstable. But, on the other hand, she’s not a friend, she’s a [therp]. Aren’t I supposed to maybe let myself be a bit dependent on her? I do not know. I am exhausted and must sleep. Now.