12:22 p.m. - February 10, 2005
Didn't feel like joining the group and going to the steakhouse for the 2 1/2 hour European lunch; I didn't join them yesterday, either, though I did on Monday and Tuesday. Never mind that I enjoy chatting with Roger-the-Swiss-trainer and have developed a mini-crush on him this week, and never mind that he asked me to come so he can speak French and stop having to think in English for a few hours. And never mind that these fancy corporate lunches are paid for by Roger's company - Tuesday's bill for the 6 of us was $359.00 - and never mind that I like feeling part of a crowd where they know my name and we can joke. No, instead I decline and seek out a quiet table in the hotel restaurant where I order a Cobb salad. At least I'm at a different table than I occupied yesterday, and ordered something different.
Been having a few rough nights lately. What does that mean, having a few rough nights lately? It's more than bad dreams, a pounding heart, the merry-go-round in my head that makes me worry I'm crazy. A rough night is when the control breaks down and I'm a hostage, can't stop what's going on, am voiceless. It's terrifying because I know they are only (only!) memories and not happening right that moment, but my body doesn't obey my mind, or more clearly, my mind breaks off like it's on a barge traversing a frothing waterway, and consumed with the voyage pays no heed to the extraneous. It's like watching three or four cartoons superimposed on each other in HDTV, and shutting your eyes or looking away to relieve that tension is not an option because the screens are on the interior of my eyelids. Last night I woke up and screamed violently enough I scared myself all over again.
The worst of it is how alone I feel when I wake up and have calmed down.
I do not much like this life of mine.