From deisenst@mail.coin.missouri.eduTue Dec 31 15:30:03 1996 Date: Mon, 30 Dec 1996 20:07:48 -0600 (CST) From: "David D. Eisenstein" To: "Cheryl L. Hill" Subject: You seem to be the one... with whom I share... A couple of sharings, no, three sharings, in ABCA form: The first is a quote from the Bible. There is a little program that pulls some random verse from the Bible (random among some selected by the author of the program) that puts the verse on the screen every time I boot up the computer. The second is from a journal entry I wrote today and don't know what to do with. Don't know why, but you seem to enjoy reading what I have to offer, unless, of course, it attacks you. And the third, a poem I wrote about the time I first started taking anti-depression medication, which I've taken pretty con- tinuously since. 1) A "I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain." -- somewhere in Phillipians, I think. 2) B " Monday, December 30th, 1996. Feeling shaky and self-pitiful. Tummy is like a tense football. Shoulders tense, disposition hidying and afraid and angry and blaming and regretful and did I say angry? and lonely. Just filled out the registration card for the new "U.S. Robotics (R) 14.4 Faxmodem Internal Version" which I purchased with father's help on Saturday afternoon while still in Kansas City. Left Kansas City precipitously yesterday afternoon for Columbia. Spilled tomato soup on the kitchen table, packed up and left, tel- ling father in a stern voice when he came to apologize to get out of my face and when he refused and asked "why?" I told him because I would put my fist in it otherwise. Then resumed packing, left, and handed Mom the key to their house telling her I did not want it anymore when she followed me out to the car. As I write this story I sit here and shake, not with anger, but with the ambivalence, fear, pity, and perhaps terror that characterizes what I consider to be my weaker moments. I have had. As I write this I am tying up the cute little toolkit that Dad gave me at least ten years ago for Christmas, and thinking of yet another ennervating episode ... that I am feeling like turning around (next time I visit Carfax)-- saying to Jackie Holmes, 'You remember that file cabinet episode in which you called me "petty"? Well I forgot to tell you something about that at the time. The thing I forgot to tell you is this: It takes one to know one.' As I am sitting here writing this right now, I am exercising my will- power to inhibit myself from taking a chair and throwing it through a wall, or grabbing one of the cords draped over my desk and yanking it for all it's worth or imagining doing physical violence to someone who is trying to be helpful to me. Needless to say, I guess I am not feeling well, certainly not my best, and am feeling very frustrated... with a world that has felt to be so very violent and demeaning to me, not only years ago as a child but also relatively lately in my life. Oh, there go the tear ducts again ... as they tend to do much more easily when I've not taken the damn Paxil. And even as the tears dry once again, I find myself empty, angry, and wanting to do someone or something violence. There's a little orange fox, a toy, that I just picked up with the intention of flinging as hard as I could in some random direction... preferrably one that will break something so I can hear the satis- fying tinkle or crunch of something destroyed. I begin to have some appreciation of where some criminal minds are formed ... where the minds may have lived before criminal actions were taken. I thank God I have my apartment to which I can retreat and imprison myself when I feel I may do unnecessary harm to others or things. The only things I am not prevented from doing violence to are my own things or my own person. Thank God. And right now I am praising the Lord that suicide is yet an option. Thank you, God, for giving me even that power ... at least at this time. Who knows? It may be the best gift I can give the rest of the world." 3) C "Riding the emotional roller coaster has certainly exposed me to some interesting affectatious scenery. Some of it beautiful, some ugly, much rather quietly, contemplatively, whole. The seeds of unborn thoughts fly by at breakneck pace, while the roller coaster wrenches one around with the dangerous curves of unforgiven hurts, hatreds, and jaded spirits. Through tunnels of hatred, waterfalls of tears, downward spirals of anger-turned-inwards; Then up again to the gate. The gate- master signals to get off this Depressoxilator Shaboom, but I can safely ignore him. I bought a lifetime supply of tickets and can stay on this ride as long as I want. Ah, here it goes again! Relax and enjoy the hell of your own thoughts. "Maybe, just maybe, I'll get off next time..." 4/13/94 ----------------------------------------------------------------- 4) A "I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain." -- somewhere in Phillipians, I think. A friend, David