Text Destruction

Last night I had a dream about Brick. I dreamed that I had texted him an apology. It was so real that I almost believed it all happened when I woke up. In my dream, Brick and I were at a house in the mountains. We were wearing special snow-shoes and skating around at some sort of park. When I woke up, I checked my cell phone. I had texted him after all. It's weird... I don't really remember doing it.

Have been thinking of you the past few days, I wrote. Wanted to say sorry if I was harsh last time we txtd. And sorry if I put pressure on you or made you feel guilty. I hope that you're doing well and are happy and sober.

I don't know why I wrote to him. It made me feel better though. I now have a sense of closure. I think that's what I'm looking for right now-- closure, closure and more closure!

CLOSURE!

I also heard from Narc yesterday. Texts about the lovely afternoon (the weather was divine.)

I asked what he had been up to.

The work, of course. It never ends! Selling our reality show, he wrote.

Wow! To whom? I asked. And PS: Am I ever going to talk to you again? Wanna get coffee sometime?

What am I doing??? you may be asking yourselves. I'm not quite sure. I don't really want to see him. I do want to move on. Sort of... I can't continue on in this strange state of ambivalence. Either we are going to try to be "friends" or I need to cut off the possibility (in my mind) of a reunion or even a conversation. I need to close the door completely or move with him in a more positive direction. I can't leave it as is-- the door slightly open for whenever he wants to peek through via text.

It doesn't matter either way, though... I am not in control. He wrote me back:

Have to keep mum on the reality show as we're almost about to close, but will let you know how it goes. Slammed with work now, but will get together one day soon.

My response:

Good luck with the show! As for meeting up (or talking), we haven't spoken in two months. Kind of hard to do a friendship that way. But wishing you the best... PS: In 2 weeks I will have one year sober and you will be 31. Yay!

He didn't write back right away to that one. And so, I dutifully went to therapy. When I got out, there was one last message awaiting me:

Work has been crazy, making up for five years of staring at my navel...! See you at some point for sure though.

I didn't respond. After all, there is nothing to say. I think that if I need closure, I'm going to have to find it on my own. He is trying to keep me on a shelf. He's certainly not going to help me do what I need to do...

Anyway, I've had a really rough week. I was sick for most of the weekend and have been overworked this week to the extreme. Yesterday I left my house at 7:30 AM and didn't get home until 9:30 PM. In that time, I taught a class, went to therapy, skimmed a few books and wrote a short paper, got Pinkberry with Bezoukhoff, went to my Modern Britain class and then staggered home. I was wiped! Little did I know, more aggravation awaited me.

I had agreed to fill in for a friend and chair a meeting at a mental institution (set for this afternoon). I have done this commitment for her once before and the last time, I wasn't responsible to find a speaker for the meeting. This time, she mentioned that I should find the speaker. I started asking around last week, but couldn't find anyone. I called my friend, in distress, about this on Sunday and she told me that it wouldn't be a problem-- that I could just ask K on Tuesday night and that she would find someone for me. This was all happening while I was sick-- feverish, aching back and sore throat. Anyway, I found K on Tuesday and told her I didn't have anyone. She said she would get back to me and never did. I called her and left her a message yesterday afternoon. When I got home from class last night, falling over with exhaustion, I found an email from K with ten names and numbers to call to see if anyone could speak. It was nearly 10:00 PM! I thought I would burst into tears.

I called K and complained about the way this whole thing was handled, and started dialing down the list. Nobody could make it. It took an hour and a half and a slew of embarrassing phone calls to find someone. I'm really pissed off and I'm not going to take this commitment again. I just can't handle the stress.

I spoke to my mom about it though (and probably vented a lot of it on her, unfairly), and she reminded me that it is a service and a good deed and that even though it caused me aggravation, it is bringing life and health into the lives of others. She's right, so I tried to reconcile myself with that.

I'm still cranky, though, because today is another mega-long day. I just taught two classes. At 1:30 I have to go to Midtown to chair this meeting. Then at 3:30 I have a doctor's appointment, and tonight I have my regular meeting.

To top it all off, I'm still racing to the finish with my fourth step.

Alright. That's enough complaining for now. I need to go focus on something positive because writing this post has made me feel worse and not better. What I have to do is not what I want to do. The things I want to control are not in my control. I still think of him every day. How many times? Who knows... And I am overwhelmed with the end of the semester. The amount of work I have to do? It's not possible for me to do it. I'm not capable of finishing. And so I have to try to accept less than perfect-- do what I can. I don't like that. I want my all or nothing! It's so much more comfortable.

And I am overwhelmed with trying to be an integrated person. How much easier was it when I could compartmentalize? When I'm with Narc, I am Narc. When I'm writing a paper, I'm a writing machine. That's how I lived. Now I'm "Hyde" all the time and it's a lot harder to manage.

How am I supposed to pull off the tricks? The miracles?

I'm out of tricks...

love,

h