Tales From the Dark Side

Seven years.
I can’t believe it has been seven years.
And it still hurts.

The search for friendship is a hard one - but ours came so naturally. We considered ourselves soul mates, and shared everything.
Her illness was the most devastating thing I can imagine - she was so beautiful and her daughter so young. It was a tragedy of a Shakespearean kind. (without the genocide, or matricide - there was incest though - but that’s a whole other story.)

We met as kids - and didn’t like each other, as adults we had the same thoughts, feelings and goals, and the friendship / connection was instantaneous.
But then they discovered the cancer, not even 3 years after our friendship began for real. Our dreams of having houses side by side, and her having the babies and my raising them seemed so silly and immature. Her future wasn’t even guaranteed. She fought a good fight, she taught me so much about life and what it means to live it - Lessons that everyone should know or remember.
She made some mistakes but she was so proud of herself for trying.

I miss her smile, I miss her unwavering love, and I miss her friendship. I am still in mourning seven years later.

Of course, I have other friends, all of whom have their own lives and their own problems and I love them all dearly. If I had to go to the funeral of one of those friends I think it would be the death of all that is me too. I feel the pain of losing her as much today as I did then. The tears come, my heart aches and I wish she was with me - to just sit… listen to music and have a gin rummy marathon. Those were the best days. Those are the days I remember most - the comfort we gave each other without having to make an effort. Just being there was enough.

There is a part of me that wants to be in her world now - helping the lost kids, a full blown angel - a psychic told us that is what she was doing now…
A part wishes I had the strength to keep my promises to her, the promises for her daughter, but she has chosen a path that I feel I cannot save her from.
There is no guilt, just sorrow amidst a world filled with so much joy.
I don’t wish to join her - I wish to take her place.
Her daughter needs her.

Labels: Bec, remembering, sorrow

Sometimes we all do things simply because of the desired consequences. Like eating more fibre... you know what the effect is.

Well.. my stomach has been ... well ... brutal. Bloated, painful, the essence of IBS that I am periodically plagued with.
I am eating my veggie soup, and my oatmeal with extra fibre in the morning... but it just gets worse and worse.
So yesterday I did the one thing that actually makes my stomach feel 100% better.
I had some freshly brewed coffee.
Unfortunately it wasn't decaf, and I had 3 cups.
Needless to say it was after 6am when I finally fell asleep... and I woke up at 10am.
I have an exam to study for and I know if I take a nap I will not sleep tonight.

The problem... so tired I can't think... in english - let alone in french!
gggrrrr

And - I may be on a leave of absence from work, but it seems the convenience of being off is very quickly filling my calender.
I am taking off for 2 and a half weeks to babysit my brother and my nieces, while my sis-in-law is in Italy.
I agreed to have a friend stay here for a night (with her son) then drive them and all their crap to the airport the next day. The good thing is it's an official move and she isn't coming back!
Then - another friend asked my to housesit in June while she is on vacation - which I think is at the same time I have been asked to help with the dog who lives upstairs cause my landlady is going for surgery and the "baby" needs its medicine.
Plus I want to go to Montreal to see family and practice my french skills... and everyone wants me to go to Kincardine to see them as I haven't been home in FOREVER!

This isn't stressing me out... it's just a lot.

I am also curious as to how much of this would be going on if I wasn't on leave.

Oh - and I have 2 Dr's appointments on Tuesday - both "psychological" and emotionally draining, then 2 the week after...

I think my brain might explode.
I just have to remember - one day at a time and I will survive.

God - I hope they don't force me back to work in June... I'll be screwed!

Labels: housesit, life, stupid

I am sitting here, watching the stupid movie about Prince William on the Women's Network (why? no bloody idea) and suddenly my heart is racing, my chest feels like it's going to explode and my entire body is numb. There's also the lovely feeling that my skin is going to jump off of my body (such an unattractive thought). I have tried my breathing - but my lungs won't expand and my stomach is still sore from the surgery a week ago.

Why am I having an anxiety attack?
It's not even a feeling I can put into words - other than I am anxious - for no reason at all.

I certainly don't.
My life has become a blur from one day to the next.
I have no inclination to do anything, see anyone, leave my house or be the magnificent creature that my friends believe me to be.
One friend is still not speaking to me.
I get the occasional forwarded e-mail.
I worry about Phoenix - that I can't help her and be there in the same way that she has been here for me.
I am afraid that the decision I have made will affect the future choices I have.

Let me rephrase - I had my surgery.
Now I wonder if what I had done will make it harder for me to find a "mate". Yes I know I made this choice - but the question still prevails.
My inability to bear children could be the deciding factor in whether or not a relationship continues.
It isn't that I never thought of this before - it's just something I never wrote down.
I think I have had every single thought about this surgery - and obviously I went through with it, i don't regret it, I sometimes feel like I am the only one who understands what I have done.

My mood isn't really any better.
I think the anxiety is better, but I still feel depressed.
I miss too many people to count.
and I have way to many regrets about the way I am living my life at this exact moment.

I haven't been eating properly.
I haven't been going to the gym.
I leave my house as little as possible.
I don't clean enough.
The bird cage is a mess.
And
I don't care.
I think that is the worst part.
I just don't care.

Labels: mood, regrets, thoughts