Tuesday, Jun. 03, 2003 | 9:15 AM

Yesterday was an awful awful day. Just miserable upsetting�like I hadn�t experienced in a long time. It was a day during which I wound up crying my eyes out and I haven�t done that in so long�the only time I�ve cried in months has been onstage.

It was awful for stupid reasons�not because of anyone who�s an important part of my life. Not because of anything that actually means anything to me. But it was just broken-hearted lonely and I dealt with it in a way I haven�t dealt with something upsetting in a long long time.

I fell off the bulimia wagon. And I don�t know why. I�ve been on that wagon for years and years. I�m not exactly sure what set me off�it was a combination of so many things. After having felt so sure of myself for so many months, so incredibly happy with the choices I�m making and the manner in which I�m living my life, several things happened in the course of hours which left me profoundly shaken. Suddenly, I was rapidly decompensating�feeling terrible about myself. Wishing I could blot out so much.

Psychic wounds (by which I mean things that have happened in the past that were emotionally scarring) are kind of like ulcers. When you�re taking care of yourself and you aren�t under stress, you scarcely notice they�re there. But when you�re troubled by current goings-ons, and maybe you aren�t treating yourself well physically or spiritually, suddenly you�re made aware of all the things you thought had stopped hurting. They never disappeared, they were just lying dormant.

It�s funny� whenever something painful happens in my current life, it�s like it happens a thousand times over, because all of these other old wounds open up. And I find that terribly irritating.

On the one hand, it�s a gift. If someone tells me about something disgusting that they ate, I can picture the experience to the point of feeling it and I�ll start gagging. If someone relays to me a sad story, I can imagine going through it to the extent that I�ll automatically start crying. I can key into emotional experiences like nobody�s business. Empathy. That�s why I�m such an effective actress. I don�t have to pretend my way through feelings�I can pick them out of the air and make them my own.

But when I start empathizing with myself, with my own past history�when I can key into those emotions of long ago so clearly that I�m feeling them all over again, even though I don�t actually feel that way at all anymore, it�s problematic.

I am trying to find a way of controlling this gift I have. It�s like being a baseball pitcher with amazing power and no aim. I need to discipline this empathy. And I�ve been doing pretty well, but yesterday I backslid because all my insecurities were brought out.

I gorged myself on chocolate and wine and Swedish soda pop and then I stuck a spoon down my throat and I did this three or four times�I don�t remember how often. It was so comfortable. I forgot how safe it felt to be in that zone. To numb out like that. To have these simple actions to focus on. Getting full and emptying out. Waxing and waning. It was consoling.

And sick. Obviously what happened yesterday merits some serious reflection on my part. I�ve been doing wonderfully but I need to examine my coping mechanisms. Simply being involved in theatre, being ambitious and highly achieving is not going to heal everything. I need to figure out how to deal with these feelings when they occur. Otherwise I will be at the mercy of the past for all time.

I�m tired of running way from history.