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another day

feeling better today. tomorrow is suicide support group night. woohoo. can't decide if i am going. there must be much better things to do on a Tuesday night.
i got an email from livejournal a couple of days ago that my subscription was almost up. amazing i managed to keep a journal going for a whole year! i wrote them back and asked if they could transfer the payment from OurJourneys to this account because half of that shared journal is no longer with us. they wrote back quickly and transferred it. i like livejournal. we had just paid for that subscription.
i have to go to baton rouge tomorrow and Wednesday for a seminar. i dread the drive. it means i have to get up really early. i am not a morning person. at least not a 6am morning person...yuck.
i'm afraid i have been short and bitter to a couple of men who have emailed me expressing interest in me as a submissive. i did apologize to one. i am feeling a bit like a black widow these days....like i would hurt anyone who came too close. it is funny in a way (well, not really) but i had that feeling way before Chris. my commitment phobia was not induced by my own previous pain, but, rather, the pain i have caused others. i think i've touched on those feelings a time or two here. certain my karmic debt was to fall in love and not have it returned. so i have steered clear of love. i had no idea it would be as bad as this. it isn't so important now, but i do worry i will never again be able to share my heart. it took everything i had to let go with Chris and not run for the hills. some days it takes everything i have to go on without him. i need the guilt to fade. how easy it would be if there was an anti guilt pill. could market the hell out of it to catholics. growing stronger than the guilt of feeling partially responsible for what he did, is the guilt of going on with my life. guilt when i smile and laugh or forget for a while and have a good time. i remember being so upset the first few days after he died to see that life obliviously goes on. people in the streets were smiling and laughing, doing their shopping and going about their lives. i wanted to shout at them. and here i am trying to go on with mine. and feeling guilty for it! damn him.
i just realized one of my favorite black dresses was at his house. i keep meaning to write his mother and ask for it. if it wasn't an expensive chico's travel dress i wouldn't care. but i want it back. i guess i am worried i will seem shallow if i ask for my dress. she lost her son and i want my dress. it goes great with the shoes he bought me.

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( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
onesubgal
Oct. 7th, 2002 10:51 pm (UTC)
After my dad committed suicide I felt incredibly guilty. Guilty that I hadn't even known he was having those probelms. Guilty that I couldn't have done something to stop it from happening. Guilty that I didn't make him happy enough or I wasn't a good enough daughter to make him decide to stay. I felt guilty because I couldn't bring myself to go to his grave. It took me three years before I could bring myself to go. Three whole years with my mother telling me how horrible a person I was for not going up there. And I was so angry that everyone was moving on, getting on with their life. Sixteen years old and I lost the one person in my household who I knew loved me, who I was closer to than anyone, who did his best to temper my mother's emotional cruelty.

*sigh*

Guilt is a horrible thing. Even now, tonight, I am struggling with my own form of guilt over my own feelings of insecurity. But that's another story. I apologize for rambling here, but your entries make me want to type. *smile*

Again, I know how different our situtations are, but I just wanted you to know that I went through some of the same things you did. Guilt is part of the natural process of grieving, as far as I'm concerned. I hesitate to use the word heal, because I'm not sure if you ever completely heal from something like this. It gets easier....it gets a lot easier. But that wound never disappears completely.

*hug* Your entries always touch me in a way, because I see so much of what I went through in your words. I wish I could make it better for you. I wish there was something I could do to help you, even though we don't really know one another. In the meantime, all I can do is let you know that you aren't alone and that it will get better. You just have to give yourself time, and allow yourself to feel all the emotions that are going through you.

And if you ever need to talk, feel free to contact me.
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don't fear death
melissamuse
melissa muses (or maia, you choose)

Roma

wandering does not make you a "gypsy."
why would you call yourself
after those who have no home?
long skirts and hoop earrings
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why do you call yourself after
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"gypsy" is pejorative. please don't perpetuate the stereotype. educate yourself on what it really means to be a "gypsy" in this world.

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