This is from my journal written in July 1968.\u00a0 I was living with a guy because I was so desperate not to be alone.\u00a0 The use of lower-case letters for \u201cI\u201d, the Roman numerals, the names of the days were part of my attempt to express both my negative value for myself \u201ci\u201d and my wish or hope that there was a mythic dimension to my life.\u00a0 That\u2019s what I would have called it then.\u00a0 Now I recognize it as my search for Spirit.<\/p>\n
The marginal notes were from any of the many times I would go back and read my journals and comment from the perspective of the present.<\/p>\n
VIIxxvii day of veronica\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 sun leo, moon leo-virgo<\/p>\n
in the morning i walked in the woods and fought with devastating doubts.\u00a0 then, suddenly, peace came, and i fled to the sea.\u00a0 now is the time to take my place in the ordinary world \u2014 to live with a man and keep him happy.\u00a0 i have no Self \u2014 i will be a shy vortex in the house, cleaning cooking, weaving webs for the dog, the cat, and the man.<\/p>\n
[Marginal note: More LIES!\u00a0 \u00a0 \u2014\u2014\u2014\u2014 \u00a0 do you not see the SACRIFICE of SELF \u00a0 \u2014 the only way I could have been “happy”]<\/p>\n
July 31\u00a0 \u00a0 day of the millrace: deadness of denial<\/p>\n
its hopeless.\u00a0 ive been trying but my best efforts aren’t worth much.\u00a0 it takes all ive got just to go on wearing a cheerful mask.\u00a0 there’s no real joy in weaving or sewing, no joy in finishing a product.\u00a0 i took speed the last couple of days so that i could keep busy \u2014 but i guess it was just to hide the awful truth from myself.\u00a0 if i push hard enough i can awaken a sort of joy, but it doesn’t last.\u00a0 fred is discouraging.\u00a0 when i got back, i tried to be happy & confident, but the old habits were still with me, and he seemed angry because i hadn’t changed enough.\u00a0 i guess we both expected too much.\u00a0 so he’s been down on me ever since, and its been an uphill struggle just to try to act cheerful.\u00a0 but i guess he knows its an act and so doesn’t respond, but stays glum.\u00a0 so ive given up and entered a sort of despairing calm.<\/p>\n
[Marginal note: and that was july.\u00a0 it took me SIX MONTHS before i could leave\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 AAAAARRRRRRRRRGH\u2014\u2014\u2014\u2014]<\/p>\n
i don’t know what to do.\u00a0 there’s no one i can turn to.\u00a0 what i’m feeling may be wrong, but how can i tell what’s right.\u00a0 if i accept fred’s view of me, all that does is undercut my confidence and leave me stranded.\u00a0 there’s a little voice inside calling me a coward and a quitter, but that’s not enough to push me into something positive.<\/p>\n
what can i do? stop feeling sorry for myself. that means getting positively involved in something outside.<\/p>\n
why do i get so discouraged so easily? \u2014 it seems like i haven’t changed or grown at all in ten years.\u00a0 the same old things the same old problems.<\/p>\n
ive been trying so hard to be cheerful & act as though nothing is wrong and its all a lie. it just doesn’t work, its all built on too shaky a foundation. one thing at least \u2014 i don’t feel all shaky & torn in the fabric of my mind as i used to.\u00a0 suicide & nervous breakdown no longer seem real possibilities.\u00a0 i guess thats a step forward though it still leaves me many steps behind any kind of normal happy existence.<\/p>\n
where am i now.\u00a0 in a long blank corridor of closed doors.\u00a0 ive closed the door on the old feelings, but the habits are still with me and i haven’t been able to open another door.\u00a0 halfway up a cliff, unable to go down, unable to see the way to climb higher.<\/p>\n
THIS WAS TRUTH<\/p>\n
thats something i can do is make snowflakes \u00a0 \u00a0 a definite feeling for the first in a long time \u2014 ebb tide.\u00a0 the tide is out, stationary, many things are revealed that the sea had covered.\u00a0 no i don’t want to take a walk or go to the sea.\u00a0 the escape of sleep is another closed door.\u00a0 im going to sit here staring into the wind until a solution opens.\u00a0 thank god for alcohol. \u00a0 you quit poor little girl and you’ll stay in a crazy house for the rest of your life.\u00a0 OK but if im going to be crazy i want the heights back as well as the deeps.\u00a0 if i have to walk in the dark valleys i want to hit a mountain peak once in a while<\/p>\n
im one of the living dead now.\u00a0 i just walked over the grey line and joined my mother and father in greyness.\u00a0 no more feelings because feelings hurt.\u00a0 also of course no possibility of suicide because that takes courage and something alive that can feel pain.\u00a0 but i don’t need to commit suicide because im already dead.<\/p>\n
[Marginal note: The greyness, the deadness of denial.\u00a0 I was denying my true life, my true self, I even say it in so many words.\u00a0 I knew I couldn’t go on doing this, and yet I thought something was wrong with me that I couldn’t do it.\u00a0 Thank god, goddess, tigress, whoever was watching over me, that I chose to be “bad” rather than live a lie.\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Feb 90]<\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
This is from my journal written in July 1968.\u00a0 I was living with a guy because I was so desperate not to be alone.\u00a0 The use of lower-case letters for \u201cI\u201d, the Roman numerals, the names of the days were … Continue reading