But they’ve decided we are all super traumatized by the Copernicus, and reconvened the groups they had running after the rescue. The latest round of talking (or not) about our feelings led our group leader to conclude maybe some of us are more forthcoming than others when it comes to sharing the deepest, darkest parts of ourselves.
Being the astute creature she is, she spent ten minutes I’m never getting back pointing out that just because we don’t talk about our feelings doesn’t mean we don’t have them.
Thank you, Captain Obvious.
I guess she was looking at me on that one. I haven’t slept properly since it happened, and I keep waking up at night wondering…bad things. I just don’t think talking about it to a group of worried faces is the way to help me.
I hate the crying the most. It just creeps up on you out of nowhere. You’re in the middle of doing something and suddenly you realize your goddamn eyes are wet again and you don’t know how it happened. And the last—the LAST—thing you want is for anyone to notice, because next thing they’re cooing and clucking over you, and they want you to talk, and it’s more than I can take.
I have my mom’s voice ringing in my ears, though, so I am trudging along dutifully to these stupid group discussions, even though it’s pointless.
I haven’t kept a journal since I was a kid, filling it with all the secrets of the universe, the suckitude of my parents moving me to a hideous hunk of rock like Kerenza, the total angst of it all that I’d give anything to get back. It worked, though. Writing it down stopped me saying it when I shouldn’t, and over time the problems faded away. My present problems aren’t going anywhere, but maybe the Return Of The Journal will stop my head exploding.
This thing is locked down under the kind of privacy protections even Byron couldn’t crack. And if anyone reads it, I’m going to devote my life to finding a way to program every bathroom door on the Hypatia to refuse to recognize their ID. Actually, I think I could do that. BEWARE, SNOOPER.
So, a journal. I appreciate that they’re trying to help with the group sessions, but they’re scientists, not therapists. You can’t run people through a quick training session and then have them host a bunch of traumatized survivors sitting in a circle and trying to talk it out.
My group leader says it’s important to talk about my FEELINGS. I am stone-hearted and have none, of course.
Well, that’s not true. Most people would say I’m pretty cold, but I think of it more as…private. People are always saying “how are you?” to each other, and I guess I don’t see why I should answer such a personal question for just anyone.
But for the sake of trying, here goes.
Ezra’s been on my mind a lot lately. Why, I don’t know, except that the more you lose, the more you realize you don’t have much left.
But at the same time, I’m…am I dumb to go back there? It was hard enough to make a decision the first time, but if after a year he couldn’t even trust me enough to talk about whatever he had going on…and anyway, practically the first thing he did was email me and say it was all a sign, and we weren’t meant to be together, and I do have SOME dignity. I don’t want to be an option for him just because now he doesn’t have any others.
I’m glad he made it out, obviously. It’s not about that.
I think a lot about who made it out, who didn’t. I think about my cousin Asha. Sometimes I just remember some random person, like the lady who came to fix our habitation recyc the week before it all happened. I can see her face, but I don’t remember if I knew her name.
I wonder if she made it out, if she’s somewhere on board, or if she died. And then I don’t know why I’m wondering something like that, or why I feel so bad about not knowing. Survivor Guilt, according to the Counseling Circle Of Hastily Downloaded Wisdom.
I guess an experience like this is supposed to mess you up.
Participants: ByteMe, CitB
Date: 07/22/75
Timestamp: 09:02
ByteMe: u there?
ByteMe: ping
ByteMe: ping
ByteMe: PING COME ON COME ON
CitB: **** me, i’m here, what?????i was trying to find Copernicus survivor lists for you, that takes concentration u know
ByteMe: told you i don’t want them. forget that. ping the Alexander
CitB: how can u not want to know?
ByteMe: PING THE ALEXANDER
CitB: ok
ByteMe: u doing it?
CitB: trying
ByteMe: well?
CitB: still trying did u miss ur meds or what?? whats the rush??
ByteMe: well?
CitB: i can’t
ByteMe: I KNOW
CitB: ??
ByteMe: comms are down
CitB: system check?
ByteMe: no they all blinked out simultaneous. when they’re running a check u see them cascade out. Alexander’s main engines are still offline too. i was watching for court martial results when comms were cut
CitB: checking on ur boyfriend
ByteMe: this again?
CitB: don’t deny the flame still burns. ur heart leaps at the mention of his name. u know this is love, sent by forces above…
ByteMe: r u quoting song lyrics now?
CitB: i do not have a lot of rl experience with romance
ByteMe: listen, i’m doing this because it’s our best chance of finding out wtf happened to the Copernicus. we don’t have anyone else on the ground.
CitB: mmm hmmmm
ByteMe: can we please keep our minds on the job at hand?
CitB: I don’t know, can we?
ByteMe: Byron, they cut the ship link. Just like they did with Copernicus.
CitB: ok, ok. i don’t like it either. i have news though
CitB: there are def Copernicus survivors on the Alexander. i found signs about an hour ago. The Cyclones are only landing in bays 1, 2, 3, 5 and 6. see what’s missing?
ByteMe: omgnumbers
ByteMe: wait, wait, I CAN TOTALLY DO THIS.
CitB: …
ByteMe: o, the thinking, it HURTS.
CitB: ok fine, point taken
ByteMe: wait…is it the number…4?
CitB: all RIGHT I’m sorry
CitB: point is, we found our Copernicus shuttles
ByteMe: so the survivors are still locked down
ByteMe: shouldn’t they be debriefing, working out wtf happened?
CitB: i’m just one guy, patience, grasshopper
ByteMe: i want to know y they isolated us by cutting comms. R we next?
CitB: careful going after that sort of gen. thats hardcore. they find u doing that they burn u right out
ByteMe: ur scared
CitB: no, smart. dangerous times
COMMAND TRANSMISSION SENT 07/22/75 09:06
HYPATIA HAILS ALEXANDER: NARROW FREQUENCY BROADCAST
Alexander, Alexander, Alexander, this is Hypatia, Hypatia, Hypatia. Do you copy? Over.
[NO RESPONSE]
HYPATIA HAILS ALEXANDER: AUXILIARY FREQUENCY
Alexander, Alexander, Alexander, this is Hypatia, Hypatia, Hypatia. Do you copy? Over.
[NO RESPONSE]
HYPATIA HAILS ALEXANDER: MAYDAY FREQUENCY
Alexander, Alexander, Alexander, this is Hypatia, Hypatia, Hypatia. Do you copy? Over.
ALEXANDER HAILS HYPATIA: MAYDAY FREQUENCY