No matter how this (sick/well) turns out, it's a good news bad news story. I guess it's good enough news that there is an upside for each bit of bad news. Of course I wish it was either all bad or all good but I guess there must be balance. But only me, and for a fleeting moment before she mentally flogged herself for even letting it cross her mind, my friend DJ, and possibly my parents see a relieving upside to being me semi-unwell. Of course I don't get to pick the degree of un-wellness but if you can humor me on such a serious subject, it's not unlike a kid trying to get out of school. In an ideal world, he's sick enough to stay home but well enough to enjoy it. I know I'm not a kid anymore and this isn't kids play. I don't want to be ill and tossed into the valley of poor health. There is a point of diminishing returns on its blog fodder value. However, I'm going to give myself kudos on advanced coping skills for thinking of all the good things that can come from a medical detour of my previously laid plans. A lymph node or two have swelled in protest and are now unhappy and sore, mourning the loss of their brother in arms. I thought Steve's neighbors (I've named the lymph node who started it all, Steve) might be upset after witnessing his sudden and graphic eviction but they have been pretty quiet until tonight. I'm thinking that means antibiotics so glad I'm seeing the doctor in the morning. Fearfully and wonderfully made...fix one thing, make a new thing to fix.
A Full Life
Whenever my computer goes into sleep mode, a slide show from my photos starts. When I saw a picture of me in the plane I "co-piloted" (emphasis on the quotes) when I was 19 or so, it occurred to me that one might get the impression from my photos that I've lived a very full life. If you only knew me through what I write about myself, I'm not sure you would get that impression. In this space, I'm often looking for something that the photos say I have. If nothing else, the pictures are a testament that I'm at least getting around while in pursuit of some other magical life. I think that's why I've changed my attitude about pictures. There are few, very few that I like myself in but I wish I had more because even if I don't feel like I've done anything with my life, the pictures could trick people into thinking I have. It's all about appearances, you know.
For the dog(s)
Oh the places I've been with you sweet, softly snoring Baloo. I have a lot of mental vignettes staring you, a couple of prominent scars courtesy of you, many inappropriate songs I've inserted your name into (e.g. "I'm trying to find the words to describe Baloo without being disrespectfuuul. Damn Baloo!" or my personal favorite "Promiscuous Dog, you teasin' me. You know what I want and I got what you need") but tonight was super fun. You pooped next to the passenger side of that unmarked cop car and I thought, yay. But he didn't notice you, black dog in the dark, he noticed me standing at his passenger door, staring down at the ground looking for your poop. Bonus, I was rocking the ipod so I didn't hear when he rolled down his window to ask if he could help me in that way where it's clear he is not at all concerned if I need help. Caught off guard, I couldn't muster any courtesy and just waved my plastic bag covered hand at him and said, 'I'm picking up poop.' He rolled up his window and got on with his life. Thanks dog buddy for trying to get me shot.
Former friends (aka poking the Bear)
When I first moved to Philadelphia I decided to get in the mix, you know, single gal in city, hanging out with other single gals, doing all that stuff that looks so fun on TV or when you see other people doing it. I'm super glad I did it. It was the antidote to my curiosity about what I was missing out there and the joys and drains of hanging out with women who aren't really your friends. I don't mean that in a malevolent way, like we didn't like each other, I'm just making a distinction between being friendly and being friends. I liked everyone there but no one was dedicating 'Lean on Me' to one another.
I don't have many Facebook friends and even fewer from Philly but one of girls I used to hang out with on the regular, my closest girlfriend there, hasn't said a word to me since I left. She was mad at me for refusing a going away dinner/birthday party thing and I had no interest in fueling her backwards thinking by trying to smooth her feathers about it. When she asked why I didn't want a party, I said since it was my birthday, I should get to do what I want and I don't want to do anything. I was hoping she would have a moment of clarity and realize she was making something for me about her but instead I am pretty sure that was the last time we spoke. It's a shame. When she's not being high maintenance or passive aggressive, she's hilarious and fun to be around.
I've got plenty of Facebook chaff, really I could have 4 friends on Facebook and be set, 8 if I count folks who comment on a status update at least once every 6 months or so. But having on her my friend list feels like being at a party where you can tell someone is deliberately not talking to you. Maybe I'm making it up in my head but I feel like we're in a Facebook detente, she won't de-friend me because she has over 200 friends plus hobbies and interests outside of me (gasp) and I won't de-friend her because it *will* be a thing among the 2 people I met through her that I'm still in occasional contact with. A part of me just wants to call a spade a spade, but nothing that happens in her life happens alone and she will bring in at least her immediate family, the two other people we know in common, and folks I've never met to discuss me ad nauseum in very unflattering terms. No thanks. It's only boredom, desire for distraction, and procrastination that even drives me to think about engaging her to clear the air.
7 comments:
"In an ideal world, he's sick enough to stay home but well enough to enjoy it." Great line there Ava. Lots of great lines and insights. Good stuff.
Feel better!!!
oh my... LOTS of stuff here!
I like the the offending lymph node got a name. Steve. Pretty common and unthreatening - so maybe this means that his "status" will not be as awful as it could be? (Been thinking about you...) And that his neighbors set up a short-lived protest at his removal.
You have lived a very full life, my dear. :) If you wrote it all down on paper, it would be an envious list to most. But yes - having pictures somehow solidifies the memories. I do regret not allowing more pictures to be taken of myself -- very often feeling fat, unattractive, etc. And now, when I look back at the pictures that were taken - I think, what the hell was I so worried about? Somehow, having the pictures makes it easier to recollect and retain the timeline of our journey. (...more to come...replying to a text. ha!)
Sweet Baloo! Trying to get you shot. (Seriously LOL funny!) Now I'm going to have a hard time not thinking of her the next time I hear these songs... And as I was reading this, I realized that one of my own furry friends was having a major gas leak as he was snoozing in the other room. (The house isn't usually this quiet - no fridge running at the time, humidifier was off, furnace off, no tv running in the background...)
Perfection on the Facebook, friends vs friendly commentary. Ugh. I have "muted" those FB friends, but like you said, it's like being at the party where someone is freezing you out. So it comes down to ef-you, I'll mute you -- but at the same time, I'd like you to also NOT know what is happening in my life. I know, that's immature. I've come to accept that reality -- maybe I'll "grow up" some day, but I've had one too many friends who was just. not. worth it. I realized it was okay to "let go" of those people who were self-centered/self-serving (ALWAYS "what's in it for me", and/or I will take advantage of you for as long as you will let me), passive-aggressive, or just downright mean (talking shit about a mutual neighbor/friend... what are you saying about ME?). But I do see an advantage of at least clearing the air.... maybe it will allow the friendship to flourish. Or maybe it will just be the official "end" of it.
one last thing. Nan gave me a magnet a number of years ago with a quote from Souza. It really resonated with me. When I read your post, it reminded me of the saying on the magnet:
happiness is journey, not a destination... [souza]
for a long time it seemed to me that life was about to begin - real life. but there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. at last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life. this perspective has helped me to see there is no way to happiness happiness is the way. so treasure every moment you have and remember that time waits for no one.
It sounds sort of cheesy... but I love it. It's on my fridge... along with several other hundred things. :)
Lodo: thanks for your comment! Love it when a line speaks to someone else as well.
Teresa: "there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid..." it's like you were here today, reading my e-mails, listening in on my phone calls...
I'm not even sure if happiness is my goal, simply because I have no idea what that even is. More than anything, I just want to be left alone-not alone alone, just without harassment and a crap load of obligations for things I'm not even that into. I think that comes when I get old.
If I'm lucky, I'll go to my grave an ungrateful un-cherishing, undeserving recipient of a great life with a superlative-that-hasn't-been-invented friends. Back when my mom was really ill, I realized at least for me, life is pretty damn good when I'm wanting more out of it. When tragedy rocks my world, that's when cherish mode kicks in. It's like the Threatcon Delta of sentiment. It's not sustainable emotionally or cognitively for me.
Don't know how to explain it but I think I might say I am ungratefully grateful. My heart goes *whoa* every time I think of my Mom or my Dad because I know people whose stories started the same way as ours who are mourning. But I still get mad and frustrated and other things that will cease to matter the instant I can't just see them anytime I want. In a way, I think it's the same thing you're saying, consumption/distraction with the the daily annoyance, anger, obstacles, unfinished business, those are the hallmarks of a pretty good life. They are also the things that evaporate almost instantly or diminish significantly when something is truly wrong.
Ava - just reading your comment now ... realized I hadn't checked the box for the notification of a reply.
It's interesting that when a tragedy/crisis occurs - and "crisis mode" is in effect, I can miraculously boil things down to a bare essence and handle things in an efficient, meaningful way - that otherwise escapes me. Like when I have too many options, I can't focus in on what I need to handle. But when there are no options: it is what it is, and it must be handled.
Although, as I say that, I think back to a few weeks ago when we were dealing with more medical issues with Dalton - and I was a crying, blubbering mess. I couldn't make heads or tails of the medication switch (horrible, deathly side effects) - and literally, could NOT stop crying. Like the phrase "not able to see the forest through the tree's". I was just too close to focus...if that makes sense?
What is odd, is the day after this breakdown, I happened upon a documentary on the History Channel about the 1972 soccer team that was involved in a plane crash in the Andes Mountains ... "I Am Alive: Surviving the Andes Plane Crash". At first I couldn't stop watching b/c I knew a little about it (they were forced to survive by eating the flesh of those who had died) - but then it evolved into such an amazing story of survival. Nando Parrado said something at the end about how we think life is so difficult, but really it is simple. It made me think about how I inadvertently over-complicate things. (It sounds trite and simplistic b/c not everything is easy. But I do need to remind myself, *often*, that life does not have to be so hard. Easier said than done, I know.)
You are so right. Survival *is* simple. I think living is the hard part--all the layers beyond survival where most of us have the luxury to exist.
I empathize deeply with you on Dalton's medical issues, I know how it feels when it's family and can not even begin to imagine how it feels when it's your child. For these things, I think short of robbing banks, anything you do to release pressure, cry, watch documentaries, gaze at your shoes, is acceptable. We're not robots and sometimes we come of the rails. Then we get back on the rails and get moving.
While in the some of the deepest troughs of this latest funk I thought about my perception of myself through the lens of depression versus the reality/whatever everyone else is thinking. A lot of the my pressure comes from falling short of an ideal me that frankly doesn't exist.
I got this from a friend the other day and thought it was beautiful: "Somehow depression can be enlightening in a way. Who knew?! I guess there is light after darkness- even if it's just the contrast making it appear lighter. And I know for a fact that I am far slower to judgment now. Even when it comes to judging myself. I have become more gentle with myself. It's nice to be a soft and forgiving voice in my own head. Much more peaceful. I don't know why I allowed myself to wallow for so long- but I did. And I am trying not to make myself feel badly for slip ups and internal whining festivals. There are too many battles in life- and I realized that I needed to be on my own team again."
Post a Comment