I don't know why I'm writing this. I don't even know why I want to respond anymore. I guess a little free association writing helps get the lead out. I need to vent this steam.
I'm so tired of it. The haunting. The endless explanations and reasonings. I just want to move on. My body is battered and, my spirit is torn in so many different ways. Despite trying to look up to the bright side after acknowledging my faults and trying to move on, I've just today flirted with the idea of taking my life. Daydreaming about the letter i would write: "now i'm really dead to you". I know... It's totally stupid. I guess it's just exhausting, especially after the accident. My sisters know about everything now, and it's good that they do. I know that they still love me and care about me, but in what capacity now? Gather together, women of the world, and fight against the tyranny of men! Stick together, feminists! Sigh. We're all human, and imperfect though... Although I wonder if few even care to know how sorry I am for what I've done. Sometimes, I feel like I want to leave this place forever.
It's going to be a long and hard process to move on from this. We had such a civil conversation over IM yesterday, but in her status message she wrote "karma". Karma to get hit by a car and almost killed? My sister calls me yesterday. "What were you thinking?!?!?!" repeated over, and over again. What was I thinking? I wasn't. I was feeling. And my feelings led me to someplace very wrong. Turned me into a selfish immature child, who knew only want without the consequences. "Oh yeah, I heard you were hit by a car...you ok? good." It doesn't matter, I guess. What order it all took place, or how it transpired. Maybe I should have turned out a quadraplegic. Serves him right.
I'm lucky to be alive, but living feels like a tormenting, hellish place sometimes. Vacillating between being able to deal with myself, and being incredibly guilty and miserable to the point of sheer anxiety. It's my own doing, I know. Meghan wants everyone we know to side with her. That's just fine. She's right, I'm wrong, and people should side with her. But I'm not a bad person. Conflicted, immature at times, self-destructive, self-sacrificing, yes. All of the above. Without a doubt. But deep down, I am not malicious. I am not a serial killer, or a petty thug. I was just cowardly, selfish, and scared. Scared of consequences, rejection, loneliness, and ridicule.
Sometimes, all I want to do is sleep, and now even that is marred by the dull pain of my injuries. I wish I could just go to sleep, wake up, and everything be allright. I'm sure Meghan feels the same way sometimes... We have to go on dealing in the ways that we have to. She has hers, I have mine. Trying to come to terms with my guilt and with what I've done. Her exacting retribution to me in her own ways... My family, of course, siding with her, as they should.
What a lesson to learn, and what an incredible burden to bear. I hope you rot in hell. Well, here I am. In my own personal hell. Rotting. Tormented. Just as anyone would want to have it. And now I wonder... How bad would it be, if i was going a little faster through that intersection? What if it was an SUV instead of a car? People would probably say I got what I deserved, then. Push up dasies. I'd make better fish food.
This morning I had a dream. Anxiety dream, for sure. Kate and I were on some kind of spaceship that we were on a mission to destroy. We set the self-destruct timer, and start running to the room where the spacesuits are. We put them on. On the back of our suits was a little knob to turn on the oxygen. I turn hers on, and we float out into space. But wait. I realize that mine isn't turned on, but she's already floating too far ahead to hear or see me. I suffocate, alone.
And then I woke up.
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4 comments:
Oh silly, you know I don't want you dead. On the contrary, I checked on you quite a few times. Life isn't so serious as all that. But you're entitled to your melodrama. God knows I've been using my melodrama vouchers.
to be clear, i called you first and foremost to make sure that you were all right, after i read about your accident. And it was the first thing i asked-it certainly was not an afterthought. thinking about it now, i don't agree that it was karmatic retribution at all... you were actually really fucking lucky; i thank god that you are all right.
secondly, you question the capacity of the love nic and i have for you-it's not our love you should question; as your sisters, our love for you will always and forever remain constant. it is our respect for you now that you should question. when i repeatedly asked what you were thinking, it was rhetoric. I knew very well that you were not thinking of anything or anyone but yourself. you can blame your feelings that betrayed you if you want to, but it really doesn't change anything.
lastly, as meg says, you can certainly wallow in all this melodrama/self misery. call it hell, whatever you want. you don't really have a choice so go through it. you'll get out the other side. time heals all. you'll be ok. meg has a good solid head on her shoulders; I have no doubt that she'll get over you and be just fine in time. and don't be bitter about us siding with meg on this- it's not a feminist thing. If it was nic who pulled this kind of shit on chris, i would come down on her just the same as i have with you.
blah blah blah. so you got some bruises and then 2700$ for your bike that cost you $600. Sure you're lucky to be alive -- but only in the sense that you're lucky every day you're not struck dead by a car or anything else. What happened is what happened. No broken bones, no major surgeries, no lasting injuries. Seems like it is pretty appropriate as far as karma goes. A couple days home from work to consider your life. If I believed in that sort of thing, I might think the cosmos were in line.
Sure you want to move on. You don't want to take any responsibility for your actions, just move on and pretend nothing happened. Fine. But don't think that I forgive you. I may someday forget, but I'll never forgive.
I now have reason to believe that it started in October -- while I was in south america, and after I came back is when I started feeling the incomprehensible distance. That's 5 months.
Which means you continued to lie, even as you pretended to fess up - although you always told me in person you couldn't remember exactly when it started, you publicly stated 3 months. Oh, lies of omission and half truths. How you excel at that shit. Not only to lie the whole way through, but to lie about it later. Your life is built on lies.
I still wish we could be friends, I still have this need to be in touch with you, but how can I be friends with a liar who has no respect?
Oh Meghan, your propensity to exaggerate never ceases. I haven't gotten anything from the insurance company for the bike at this point, the bike never originally cost me $600, and some bruises is just shy of a massive understatement of my injuries, considering that it's still very painful, and I still can't walk straight or run, being that it'll be a month this tuesday, and my tendons and ligaments still aren't close to healed. Bruises don't last this long.
But you're right about South America... It's not like hiding that detail would lessen the degree of what I did. That's it. No more half-truths.
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