Sunday, March 17, 1999: The Orgastic Future

dear sparky,

ever since grandma's funeral i've been rather numb. i've gone through all of the motions of being "alive" but i've not felt a thing. i can see why so many people cut themselves--they are so starved of emotion that they need to feel something, even if it's just pain. (but don't worry... i wouldn't cut myself... i have a "thing" about knives.) but i can see why someone, especially a young girl, would want to do it. that somehow by seeing the blood pour from your veins makes you realize that you are, in fact, alive even though you don't really feel that way.

but related to the quote from gatsby--i think that for some reason i've become discouraged with the green light and that i've gotten tired of chasing after it. that fighting against the current is harder than it sounds and i'll just let it sweep me away into the past.

the main problem is that i've been thinking too much--not necessarily about anything in particular but just trying to keep my mind off things (which is rather ironic in a way). it's like that letter stacey wrote to the list--i was so happy down in el-lay with everyone, i loved experiencing all of those new things and seeing people i now consider to be old friends... i felt optimistic about everything. i believed in the green light and was eagerly chasing it--then i learned that grandma was dying and then a mere week after my 18th birthday she died.

and it hit me hard, harder than anyone thinks because i've not talked about it fully. because i don't want to sit down and examine the pain and the feelings of loss. grandma was really the first person really close to me that's ever died. and it's exceptionally hard at this time of year because for every easter since i was eight or nine, my family and i would go visit grandma and go easter egg hunting with all of the other grandkids. it's really a big production. and i didn't realize how much it meant to me until i was saying goodbye to grandma and i told her that i'd never forget easter egg hunting with her and i suddenly felt like crying.

i bit back the tears because i didn't want anyone to see me cry, something i rarely do in front of family or anyone for that matter. except i'm crying now as i write this because i really miss grandma.

but i feel better now that i've cried about it. which is usually the case... now that i've released (rather reluctantly, i should add) i can start to move on. regain my faith in the green light, i suppose.

that gatsby quote never saddened me as much as it did this time around--and not solely because of grandma's recent passing--but because i'm finally feeling the current really beat me back into the past. i was telling bob a while ago that this past period of sickness shouldn't have been as hard as it was--i should've been able to pick myself up and not let it bother me so much. but that after ten years of sickness my strength to fight it has slowly eroded. it's been eroding so slowly that i didn't even register it until it was time to fight and i discovered that i didn't have the fight in me.

do you know how scary that is? to think that you have this great reservoir of strength to call upon whenever you need it--but that when you truly you need it you find out that it's practically gone... and that scared me, because my lack of strength sent me careening out of control.

i... i'm trying to find the proper words to use and i'm not sure if they exist. i didn't have a breakdown or anything nearly that dramatic because no one even noticed that anything was really wrong. i just simply started doubting myself--which i've learned is the worse thing a person can do. i doubted my ability to care about the fight anymore... and in doubting myself i got trapped in self-pity... something i despise. so i was doubting myself, pitying myself and despising myself. in a very secret way so that no one would know--i only revealed my distress in snippets and i gave so many different people so many different snippets that i knew they would never figure it out.

which was either incredibly stupid or incredibly clever of me... i've not decided which. i can only talk about all of this now because i feel removed from it--like it's finally all behind me. mainly because most of my stars are finally out again and i'm writing from the heart.

well, i should stop now. i need to go fight for the green light and the orgastic future... and most of all, find the faith in myself to keep paddling the boat against the raging current.

but i get the nagging suspicion that my faith didn't abandon me... that i just forgot where i hid it.

love you lots sparky (and i hope this letter wasn't too long and rambly for you... i'm in a "mood" and it only happens once in a blue moon--didya catch my random jd salinger reference?...)
katie