i’m addicted to postsecret. i have read all the books, including the newest one, and i read the sunday updates every week. i’m feeling a little testy that frank didn’t post new secrets this week, even though i can’t fault him since he’s on a book tour.
when i read all those postcards sent in by incredible numbers of people, i feel connected. i feel less alone. i feel more alone. it’s such an indescribable feeling. i’m always sad when i close the book and put it down, like i’m severing those connections, even with the people i don’t really want to connect with.
i keep reading about people who have found secrets hidden in the pages of the books. yesterday, in that insane desire to keep a connection going, i wrote out one of my secrets and stuck it between two pages of one of the new books. it’s sort of incoherent, as my thoughts tend to be, but i hope that it will show the person who finds it that s/he is not alone.
connected with this but apart from it, i’m finding myself in a very peculiar position. i don’t feel anything in one sense. i’m numb. i don’t cry at things that would normally have made me cry. so the medications i am on for my bipolar 2 disorder are working as far as that’s concerned. however, i’m seeking so desperately to feel that i’m noticing some behaviours that i need to stop. and what i do feel is depression. it’s getting dark and deep, a black shadow looming over me and i don’t know what to do. well, i do, i mean, i’ll be calling my doctor’s office tomorrow and getting an appointment.
connected with nothing that i just wrote, i think i’d have been a good mother. i had so much fun today, taking little man to the library with me while lolo was getting her hair done. we played some magnetic games, and read books. and then we talked about boomerangs and zombies and statues and tanks, and just had a really good time. he’s so sweet. you can’t be around him and not be completely enchanged every time he laughs or giggles. he helps renew your faith in humanity. it hurts that i’ll never have that time with my children, because they couldn’t even live long enough for me to feel them in my body. my only photos of them are a few laboratory photos of some cells that were transferred into my womb where they lived for about a week.
sorry to be so low. low is where i am right now though. low and deep and dark and lonely.