Journal Entries
July 24th, 2003 In Which I Read Too Much
Posted Jul 24, 2003
Ouch. I gave myself a headache. I spend roughly four or five hours stilling on the couch reading in "Of Other Worlds," a collection of C.S. Lewis' essays on writing and forms of writing coupled with several short stories. I was doing follow-up on "Till We Have Faces." Interesting stuff. He delved so deep in the exploration of the nature of his own experiences. It boggles me to see shapeless impressions I've had formed clearly into words and in some cases logical analogies. Or I'm just rambling philosophically. One of the two.
I'm soon to be out of California. Hurray! I think Michigan is quickly becoming my heart's home, which isn't really a good thing. Or maybe it is. I prefer, I think, not having a home here that I relate and cling to. Particularly in a place where I feel like an outsider. {shrug}
That might be irony! 
To feel like an outsider in the place that you identify in your heart as home while feeling like you belong in a place that your heart is far removed from, as I feel in California. Yeah. I think that is irony. But it makes sense. Especially if you believe that we weren't created for this world to be our home. {shrug}
Anyway . . . have a good day guys!
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Latest reply: Jul 24, 2003
July 23rd, 2003 In Which I Finish C.S. Lewis's "Till We Have Faces"
Posted Jul 24, 2003
Dang, that book is intense.
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Latest reply: Jul 24, 2003
June 17th, In Which I Am Still Trying to Come to Grips (Don't read if you are currently working through Cowboy Bebop series)
Posted Jun 17, 2003
The day before yesterday YS called me to tell me that she saw the last episode of Cowboy Bebop and that she needed to talk to me because I would understand her grief. I did. I didn't exactly mourn for Spike Spiegel, but I am reeling somewhat. I did not see that coming. Silly, that I didn't I guess, but those are the facts. As pathetic as it is, I'm having trouble coming to grips with his death.
Then that night I had to call YS to cry at her once I finished Les Miserables. I'd read the abridged before, I knew how it was going to end, but I had forgotten how emotionally wrought the last few chapters are. So I cried for a minute or so on the phone and felt better. I felt really silly, but as YS said she'd rather be sensitive enough to cry at the heart-breaking when it isn't real than be hard inside. I am thankful for that, too. I wish I was soft enough, though, that I'd cry when I watch the news.
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Latest reply: Jun 17, 2003
June 16th, In Which I Make Some Dental Obeservations
Posted Jun 17, 2003
So I was just looking in my mouth to see if I could spot any of the cavities I feel and realized that my teeth are embarrassing. I have so many fillings it's ridiculous. Granted none of them have been acquired in the last five years, but I also haven't been to the dentish in four. I'm beginning to feel some sensitivity on the left side of my mouth but that can't be cavities because the tops of those teeth are already covered in fillings! I really hope there aren't cavities UNDER the fillings. I don't know. {shrug} It'll be okay. After all, you only have to deal with having teeth problems while you're here so that's not forever. {shrug}
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Latest reply: Jun 17, 2003
June 12th, 2003 In Which I am Happy and Rested and Thankful That God Has Preserved Me From Destruction
Posted Jun 13, 2003
I am having a wonderful summer. I didn't want to come to California but I'm so thankful I was brought here anyway. God has a way of knowing what's best for us. I never thought this would be a peaceful experience, an experience of rest I needed apparently more than I thought I did. I usually feel guilty when at rest but this rest is accompanied by peace which touches Guilt gently on the shoulder and assures it that now is not its time. It's wonderful. Thinking back on all the times that I've wanted to kill myself, the long bout of bulimia that was on its way to killing my soul and was taking my body as well, the moments when I felt like there was no hope left, that I was too far gone into blackness and hate and death to ever see a star again, the moments when I would gladly destroy myself, the moments when I've felt completely alone and at odds with everything, when I've felt that the battle against myself is hopelessly neverending, when I've felt that there's no hope for me with God, that I could never overcome myself to be what I want to be for Him and for myself, the times I dug a razor into my upper arm to let the hate out, the times I was terrified of what I saw in myself, the times when I ask at the end of my rope, sometimes literally crumpled on the floor, for God to please help me because that's all I can think to say, thinking back on the unexpected, split-second healing of bulimia that I thought had been wrong to ask for, the protection from self-destruction that's been so patiently and lovingly, protectingly given to me, how I'm being so comfortingly and lovingly, persistantly led into a place of rest, I'm so thankful that God has brought me to where I am. Thank you, God, for saving me. Thank you. Thank you. Help me. Please help me.
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Latest reply: Jun 13, 2003
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