Dead and gone.

I need help. I need help breaking up with Nathan. It's the right thing to do, but I can't do it. It's so hard. I need someone to talk to.

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I miss you

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I don't think I ever learned how to be ok with myself. But I really want to learn.

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Today in the morning I had a dream that I was at my jr high graduation...I was there for the ceremony, except I was graduating along with some of the kids that I have recently worked with. I felt strange so I went to the office where I met up with a teacher I had a negative experience with, during jr high. I was trying to tell him that I had graduated from the university but he wasn't interested at all. Then he turned into my high school mentor, and he asked me what I majored in. When I answered it was English Lit his smile melted off his face. He asked why I hadn't majored in political science, to which I responded, defeatedly, "I don't want to fight".

Then I woke up.

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I turned in my last paper on Friday. It was a feminist reading of the Franklin's Tale. I tried to prove that Arveragus was a hero and that Dorigene was an accessory to sexism because she approves of benevolent sexism. I actually liked this paper better than my Pearl paper from last semester.

Now I'm done.

Sometimes I wanted to write poetry. I don't think I can anymore, also, I don't think I ever really could.

I'm applying to grad school. No ones congratulated me for graduating, not even my patents. I thought, graduating would stifle my desire to off myself when I turn 30. Yet, this doesn't feel like an accomplishment. I still feel like wasted space, resources, and talent.

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I forgot your name a few days ago, it made me sad.

I told Nathan about it, and he said,

The worth of that is that which it contains
And that is this, and this with thee remains.

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Nathan,

Remember the metaphor for love that I came up with? About how the heart is this garden, and we're born with all these different flowers already growing in it? And how these flowers, the ones your born with, they're your family and so you really have no choice in just plain loving them. And love, romantic love, is different because this particular flower you had to go out and buy the seeds for, and then you have to plant those seeds and take care of the little plant while it grows. I guess I was trying to make the distinction that in romantic love we at least have a choice of creating an environment where love can grow and thrive as opposed to family love that to me is just blind unfaltering loyalty.

I was wrong, I think. You don't feel like a choice I made. Somehow my feelings for you have taken over to the point of robbing me of my reason. You're not some beautiful flower in my heart. You've turned instead into this weed, and your roots are so deep in me that their sucking up everything I have. What little I have.

This isn't your fault. You've tried plenty of times to leave me but I've just been to blind to see that you were right. You can't give me what I want, but I've dragged this on for so long that I've gotten to the point where I feel guilty and horrible for the things I want. I can't look at myself withought feeling selfish. I hate that I've turned you into a victim and that I've become some monstrous emotionally abusive creature. More than anything it hurts so much to call myself these things for wanting things that were not unreasonable. I've twisted myself around so much to be what I think will finally gain me your acceptance that now I absolutely hate myself. I can't be alone with myself. You ignore me with so much ease that I find myself wishing I could just disappear so that even I wouldn't have to deal or look or feel myself.

I thought this was beautiful. I thought that you were the person who would help me be a better person, that we would be two separate forces bouncing energy off of each other. I'm not a force anymore, I've dissipated to this shell with only self loathing left inside. And it's all my fault. This isn't beautiful, it's horrible and cruel.

I've hit bottom. I'm doing things I know are self destructive. But now there's no where to go but back up. But I won't be able to do that with you in my life. You're a constant reminder that to the person I most love, I myself am not worth loving. Admiration is my second strongest feeling for you, and so you've been the best example of how I should shut myself out, of how my vulnerability is something that should be shunned. That the way I feel things makes me a problem not worth dealing with.

I have to pull you out of my heart, roots and all. I will always love myself, but I really need to find a way to like myself again. And with you in my life, I'm afraid it won't be possible.

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I am alone.

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How long does it take before you stop missing the person you love. How long before I stop feeling this horrible?

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I keep waiting for a sign. I keep praying for it.

A few days ago I had a dream within a dream. In my dream I was asleep, and as I slept (in my dream) I was having a nightmare. I was aware that the nightmare was a dream, but not that the fact that I was having it within another dream. In my dream i was in the same position that i had fallen asleep in, flat on my back. I was sleeping but aware of things. And as I lay there paralyzed I began to think of the possibility of there bring an earthquake. I've often experienced that strange paralyzation, when your body is still asleep but your mind isn't. There's always a fraction of a second of sheer panic before I remind myself it's temporary and I can eventually get control of my body again. But in my dream i couldn't control the panic. The room started to shake, I felt my body swaying, rocking back and forth. I hear an ambulance and the children from the school down the street screaming. I wanted to wake up, to call everyone and make sure they were ok. I couldn't move. I heard the front door open, I knew it was Nathan. Although i couldn't open my eyes i could see him standing at the door looking at me. I tried so hard to move to say something--to show him I was distressed so that he would wake me, so that he'd help me. The most vivid part of my dream was the sensation of my consciousness beating against my body trying to make it move. But I failed and he turned and left me. I felt incredibly disappointed that I had failed, because it felt like a failure, at having communicated my distress and me need for help. When I woke up I was incredibly disoriented, and then sad when I realized Nathan wasn't there.

I prayed that God would give me a sign, give me a clear answer...God has a sense of humor, and it's very elegant.

What do you make of my dream? Nathan asked not to hear about my dreams anymore because of my lack of interest in seeking some sort of interpretation--he's a big Freud fan (did I spell that right?). Well, I'm interested now, but he didn't show much interest when I told him about it.

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