Bomb in My Belly

Last post of 2006

Jane and I went through some personal stats last night and determined that yes, 2006 WAS a much shittier year than 2005. Ho hum.

Add to the list of Crappy Things About the Past Year the loss of a friendship, in (small) part related to This Blog. It sucks, and I'm sorry about it, but unfortunately I can't change the way other people feel. I can change my own actions, yes, I can apologize, yes, but that's about it. I've never been completely cut out of someone's life before. The feeling is a little odd.

2007 will be a much better year. It will start with a weekend trip to Montreal (less than two weeks away!), a series of fund-raisers/parties for the magazine I'm launching with friends, plenty of scrambling to meet self-imposed deadlines for said-magazine, ponies and kittens and rainbows, a series of raises at work, instant notoriety (the good kind) for my skills of a writer, and several torrid love affairs. Round this off with a trip to Vancouver, lots of dancing, and a potential reintroduction to vegetarianism, and I think we've got ourselves a Pretty Good Year™.

I'm off to decide what to wear tonight. Jane made me a dress for Christmas -- it's a cream-coloured knit with a cowboy and Indian pattern in red. It might be the only contender for tonight.

Happy New Year everyone. See you in 2007. 

Merry Christmas everyone.

Merry Almost Christmas

Sigh of relief. This year is almost over. It's been exhausting.

So much has happened this year, I don't know where to start. I feel like this year has aged me -- has aged everyone I love -- more than almost any other year I can remember. I'm not that old, so maybe this is one of those statements I'll look back on and laugh about. Maybe I'll realize at some point that this is just how it is, that we just gallop along on wild horses, holding onto manes for dear life. Hoping we don't fall.

This has been a year of loss, most of it so senseless and unexpected that I grow dizzy when I think about it. Ellen. Jessica. A.'s dad. S.'s nephew. D. Melodye. Most of these names and initials will mean little to those of you who read this, and the list isn't even complete. I wish I could find the words to explain each of these lives, but I can't find the right combination to express who they were and how they have affected me or the people privileged to be an even bigger piece of their worlds.

2006 has tried to teach me about letting go. I guess I've learnt that it's harder than I imagined. There's never enough time. If I could have one wish, it would be to have everyone I love surrounding me all the time. I don't like missing people. I prefer to appreciate them when they are right here, close enough to touch.

But this year has also had a lot of good. I've had many opportunities for which I am grateful. I am working on a project with many talented, intelligent, and awe-inspiring people. It let's me feel like I am a talented, intelligent, and awe-inspiring person (though I still bow to their greatness again and again -- how have I managed to consistently surround myself with people who are not only talented and intelligent, but also good? I think I've been pretty blessed).

I got to meet Rae this year (at her wedding, no less!) and have adventure after adventure. I've laughed a lot, and discovered that I don't like saying goodbye to people (hi S.!) and I'll probably never be good at it because no matter how much I know it not to be the case, I always feel like I'm being abandoned. It's selfish, I know, but it comes from a place of love, honestly. And though I'm not good at goodbye, in the end I just want the people I love to be happy. So I'm trying to get better at it. Of course, this hasn't stopped me from trying to convince those who are far away (hi A. and K., if you're reading!) that they should help me make my dream of being constantly surrounded by my favourite people a reality. I'm stubborn that way.

I'm happy, I really am. Exhausted, a little pummelled maybe, but happy. I miss some of you dreadfully (A.M., A+K, S+J, A.B., R. -- the list is far from complete) but you are in my thoughts often and my heart always.

Okay, enough with the year-end sentimentality. I have a Christmas mix c.d. to make (and if any of you want a copy, you should send me your address, even if I already have it.) 

Holidays

Nothing is wrong, in fact everything is pretty okay right now. I'm just a little busy. A real post with complex sentences and thoughtful remarks will come soon. I promise.

Then again

ErinM's comment that ADs made her feel like a zombie scared the shit out of me. This is a concern of mine. The fact is, I can't afford to have debilitating side effects right now. I have too much to do. At any rate, I have a doctor's appointment on Friday, so I'll talk about my options then. Maybe she'll refer me to a therapist. Then I can be one of those people who says things like "My therapist says I have a problem with openness. She says I don't talk enough about my emotions. My therapist thinks I need to tell people what I really think. Your sweater is really ugly and makes me want to gouge out my eyes."

Wow, thanks everyone. I appreciate your feedback, especially reading about your own experiences with ADs. Joan - I'll definitely ask to have my thyroid tested before anything else as I did recently read that menopause (especially surgically-induced menopause) can trigger hypothyroidism, and I haven't had my thyroid levels tested since my surgery. Tara, I'm pretty sure the drug I took while on chemo was apo-amitryptaline. I took a really low dose - a quarter of a pill if I remember correctly, sometimes half. It has been awhile, however, so I might be wrong about that.

With any luck I'll be able to see my GP later this week or early the next. The sooner the better as I ran out of my estrace a couple days ago, and I'm sure that isn't helping matters any.

See Kim wrote to me recently and also posted about his father's blog in the comments -- please visit him and send him your well-wishes.

December

It may be only three weeks away, but it doesn't feel like Christmas yet.

What to write? I'm working with my friend Adam to launch a magazine -- it's about the only thing I'm really excited or happy about right now. It's good to be working with a group of people who are talented and clever and ambitious, and we've managed to round up such a group. It's also good to feel like the subjects I studied in university aren't completely irrelevant to my life now.

The next twelve weeks will be pretty hectic as we decide how we plan on launching (there are some uninteresting technicalities to be discussed and decided on -- and soon -- if we want to apply for certain grants) and actually launch. There is the possibility that we will launch with two issues, and a further possibility that those two issues will be hand-bound by us and our lackeys collaborators. I shudder at the anticipated paper cuts.

While this is a good project and a much-needed distraction, I feel like I'm just barely keeping it together in every other aspect of my life. I am terribly depressed in a way I haven't been since I was sick. I think it's time to see my GP and ask her about going on anti-depressants. This is significant. I generally don't turn to pharmaceuticals unless I really really really have to, but I just can't handle feeling like this. I need something to help me and I don't really give a fuck if it's prescribed. Taking help from my doctor is certainly better than, say, taking help in the form of a bottle of wine before bed. Which in some ways is a more attractive prospect, but likely far unhealthier in the long run.

I've never taken ADs before (with the exception of a low-dose of some tri-cyclic AD to help me sleep when I was going through chemo and taking steroids), so feel free to offer up advice and personal anecdotes. I would like to be well-armed with knowledge when visiting my GP to discuss this situation. Cause, you know, knowledge is power or something.