Weather today -- cool
Mood today -- numb
Fly count for yesterday -- 0
I wrote the entry below a couple hours ago. Since then, I've received a letter from a woman which has done a lot to change my attitude about this business with Rudy. This friend, Absinth, is amazing. She is the voice of reason in a crazy world. She more or less kicked my butt a bit about defining my worth in terms of a man's love for me and I guess that's what I needed to hear, because it's sure turned my attitude around real fast. These pages are NOT going to blow away or disappear. They mean too much to me and I don't care if Rudy never reads them again... they're for me from now on. And they have aided in my healing, contrary to my self-pitying whines below. In fact, they were the first and only thing to really capture my attention, concentration and concern after some very traumatic experiences from which I never thought I'd recover (and from which I have yet to fully recover, but I'm working on it). More times than I care to admit, they saved my life when Prozac couldn't. And I have made literally hundreds of friends as a result of this site. If I just discount that and let it go because of one man, that's not giving them the credit they deserve, is it? I refuse, I repeat REFUSE to give any man that kind of power over me. Rudy had it for quite a while, fifteen months or so, but no longer. If he wants me, he knows where to find me and he can jolly well earn my trust all over again.
We agreed last night to meet on IRC at 6 am my time. By 6:55 he had not shown up. Now I am aware that this may not be his fault. He's on a provider that has only eleven modems and he often has great trouble getting one. On the other hand, this wouldn't be the first time he's slept through an arranged meeting. So I don't know which it is. Or it could be that he doesn't feel like talking to me. Whatever the case, the days of me loitering on IRC for five or six hours at a time hoping he'll log on are over. He knows my email address. If he gets a modem and wants to talk, he can email me. I'm sick up and fed with adjusting my life and schedule to suit his. If he wants to meet, I'll be there at the prearranged times, but I'm not going to sit and pine for someone who lists me as a lower priority than sleep, school, work or chores. And don't misunderstand me here: I'm not angry. Really, I'm not, though I suspect my words sound that way. I'm just done with the games.
I'm going to focus on other things for a while. I have fifteen awards waiting to be added to my pages and I think I'll work on that this morning. And then I'll go out and find a dozen more to apply for. I am webmistress to the most highly awarded site on the Internet, and that is something I can take pride in. In fact, I need to send an update to Fort Ogden Outpost, which is the keeper of such statistics. I'm listed there as having received 311 awards, when in reality it's now up to 375. I love to give awards, too. I have a lot of sites in my "to be reviewed" file right now, so maybe I'll spend part of the day doing that.
My tooth is still quite painful today. I haven't taken any pain killers for it, though I suppose I should. I keep telling myself this pain is so irrelevant compared to other pain I've experienced that it's stupid to turn to medications to relieve it. On the other hand, it's probably stupid to be so bullheaded about taking the meds, too. I just don't ever want it thrown in my face again that I can't spell or write or make sense when I'm under the influence. My pride has been a lot more wounded than my mouth in this case. I am determined to overcome this tooth pain, my migraines and my depression without the use of chemicals. I'll probably be singing a different song when I'm in the grip of a really bad migraine, but for now that's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Happy St. Patrick's Day.
To those who wrote yesterday, thank you. I'll be answering each email but it's going to take me a while since 1) there are so many! and 2) I'm not up to spending protracted periods online. Those of you who are/were concerned I'd commit suicide, rest assured that that remark was more my dark humor than any real plan or thought to do the deed. I've been down the road of suicide before and it's not for me. I guess I've never written in this journal about my successful attempt, which was foiled by modern medicine. I don't remember much about it except a disembodied male voice in the ER (a doctor, I presume), saying, "This one's not going to make it" and then a terrible burning as they forced a stomach pump down my throat. I guess at some point I actually died and was revived. I just remember all manner of very weird sh*t going on while I was supposedly unconscious... angels and lights and demons fighting for my soul. I remember all of that very clearly, including brandishing a sword myself and doing my fair share of demon slaying. But none of that seems real to me now. It was just the drugs in my system, I suppose. Anyway, the point is that I'm not about to commit suicide so y'all can quit worrying that I am.
Over the course of twelve hours yesterday, Rudy and I managed to come to a tenuous understanding of where we are and where we're going. A lot of the day was spent arguing. We've never argued like this before and it's come as a very heavy shock to me. I'm no longer sure what topics are safe to discuss. I used to tell him everything that was on my mind without censoring it at all, but I know I can't do that any more. Yesterday it seemed like whatever I said or did made him angry, so by the end of the evening I was saying and doing basically nothing. I guess it's going to be walking on eggshells for a while. He has more faith than I that this rift can be repaired. There were a number of times during our argument yesterday when I was very much ready to just walk away from it permanently. I still am not convinced we'll ever find the kind of happiness we had until this happened... or at least what *I* perceived to be happiness. I loved him so totally, so completely. My heart and mind and soul and body were his, by my own choice. Now I've called them back and I'm hanging onto them, not giving of myself the same way and that makes me very sad. I want that kind of relationship. I thought I'd found it with him. The only other time I came close to giving myself so totally to someone, he hurt and betrayed me, too. I guess the fault for all this lies with me for wanting to give too much. I'm definitely deciding that the giving isn't worth the pain, so I'll play it close from now own and give only the parts of me that can't be wounded. It's just very sad to know that so much has gone out of our relationship. I loved him so much and treasured what we had and I don't believe we'll ever get it back. I can't help but mourn.
I had planned to let this journal go... to let my entire site go, actually. A lot of people requested, however, that I continue it. I don't know how long I will keep writing. My heart sure isn't in it. But I'll keep it up to date as long as I can tolerate seeing it. My whole site was another way of giving myself to Rudy. It was done first as a means of healing for myself and secondly as a gift to him. I realize now that the act of writing and designing pages can't heal anything, and that he doesn't really want this particular gift. So I feel no great reason to continue it. In fact, if this morning is any indication, it's going to be an onerous chore to log in rather than the joy it was a couple days ago. I hope you'll forgive me if these pages just blow away like dust in the wind. They've served their purpose and had their time. I don't see a lot of point in beating the proverbial dead horse.