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Thursday, March 24, 2005
Ah, Maundy Thursday. I'm ashamed to admit that I've been so enthralled with my own first-world suffering this week, I've barely entered into Jesus' suffering.
The thing I'm most happy about today is that Dennis is coming home. He has been in New York since Monday, covering the first of the Black Crowes reunion shows, and being alone with this brain has not been much fun.
I'm also happy that my copy of BUST finally arrived in the mail yesterday. Except I can't bring myself to actually look at it for some reason. I have it sitting across the room like my article is some sort of toxic waste that I can't touch. I'll take it to work today and let someone else read it and maybe that will break the spell.
And, hopefully, I will be able to breathe on my way to work today, unlike yesterday, when I starting having some kind of low-grade panic thing. I so wanted to turn the car around and just go home and have the kitty bitch me out because Daddy isn't home and he's the only one who serves her tuna just right. I got through it, and made it to the office, but it was yet another entry in the I Am A Wreck column. I know this is kind of a transitional place and it won't kill me, but I'm really really sick of it.
I figured out how to Shazam! myself into being EverythingIsFineGirl, my superhero alter-ego, early on in my life. I needed her then, and I don't need her so much now, but she's hard to get rid of. So I'm stuck with something that keeps me from really entering into authentic relationships with people. This wasn't so much of an issue back when almost no one wanted to be in authentic relationship with me, but it's something I gotta deal with now.
One of the problems of being EverythingIsFineGirl is that it is so freaking isolating, especially if you lose sight of the fact that most people are also putting on their SuperSuits every morning in order to face the world. We're all broken, but the effort of keeping up the appearance of being Just Fine must short-circuit the part of our eyes that sees that. I guess our own brokeness starts to seem larger than everyone else's, so we need to hide it that much more, which prevents us from really connecting.
I'm completely terrified right now, because I can see that this outdated way of setting myself apart has to go, but part of me doesn't want to give it up. It's this huge thing in my path, keeping me from moving forward.
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