Juin in Adaptation

None of this matters.

Seriously.

DID YOU KNOW?!?!?!

99.9% of all species that have EVER EXISTED are now completely extinct.

So, let’s get stoned!

Except I haven’t gotten stoned in months. Sober-as-a-goddamned-judge, lately.

In February (March? Time is COMPLETELY IRRELEVANT; a concept we use for convenience and scheduling), I weaned myself off of everything (EVERYTHING!!! CHRIST!!!) but coffee and generic tylenol. I wanted to give my totally-fried brain a chance to react to the repetitive transcranial magnetic stimulation treatment.

Speaking of… I’m barrel-assing my way through my EIGHTH week, here. A typically prescribed full course is four-to-six weeks, except I’m a verrah-verrah special snowflake (obvs!) and therefore, my treatment is being extended because I was (am) a late-responder and require more zapping than the average (krazy!)bear.

I dunno… I’ve been a looneytoonz-depressed-malcontent since kindergarten… this is how it goes.

Roight, roight!

I’ve started counting the days until I’m outta here.

Meaning: the days until I’m back in Ontario to see my-gurl-Drew graduate from high school, see mah frennnnnzzzzzz and then, pack it up and move Peter and Drew…

(but not Hobbes! FINALLY FOUND A SUCKER, I MEAN: A NEW HOME FOR HIM! BYYYYYYYYYEEEEE!)

… back here, to M-m-m-m-m-ontreal.

Yesh, yesh.

15 (GODDAMNED) days to go!

Because: I’m just done with this apartment. It served its purpose. It was a stop-along-the-way - a stepping stone. I needed to take some time out, some time off.

AND NOBODY (ME!) DIED!
Onward ho, you ho!

Plus, I’m just done with being alone and doing everything by myself - which has been mostly okayfine, I can hack it!

I’m a strong and independent black woman who don’t need no man.

But, I do feel kind of lonely-ish. I’ve really enjoyed my alone-time - it was necessary. But I think I’m finally starting to feel well enough that I feel tiny bits’n’pieces of… what?

WHAT IS THIS WEIRD FEELING?!?!?

Is it…
Excitement?

(WHAT?!)

Anticipation, maybe?

Some of the fog is lifting!

I want to get on with the next part of my life. I want to get on with the next part of my relationship with Peter and my kids. It’s been a long-ass haul, yo.

I feel like I’m only mostly-dead… I still have a bit of living left to do! I want to do that, here, in Montreal. I really do love this city and I think there’s more opportunity for me to at least… take a stab at something - as opposed to just wanting to stab people all the time.

What else, what else?

Saw the orthopedic surgeon.
He said BOTH of my knees are in bad shape (fuckin’ GREAT.) considering my age.
He ordered an MRI and then pumped me full of cortizone… which… uhhhh… I don’t think it’s really helping.
Seems that cortizone injections either:

work instantly or:

can take a day or two or:

THEY DON’T WORK AT ALL.

Hmmmm… wonder which group I’m in.
(FUCK.)

Because, yeah… I am NOT okay with this amount of chronic physical pain. Overall, I have a pretty high threshold - I can (and have! holy fuck! STRONG LIKE BULL!!!) taken quite a bit of physical pain over the course of life-in-general. Physical pain is/has been a fact of my daily life for years - which now makes more sense (see? it wasn’t all in my head!) now that I know it’s osteoarthritis.

Here’s what though… the knee issue, in particular, has really fucked with my head. And my head? It really can’t take any more fucking-with.
The physical pain interferes with everything.

Every.
Thing.

Feeling okay-ish is what I try and shoot for these days.
I have ZERO ILLUSIONS about feeling “good” or “happy” so, “okay-ish” is more realistic, manageable, do-able.

KEEP EXPECTATIONS LOW (for now).

Needless to say the unrelenting-grinding-pain takes precedent over everything.

Every.
Thing.

I’m finding it extremely-fucking-monumentally-difficult to focus on anything BUT this pain.

Like, y’know… the things that are actually “okay-ish”… things like:

• The brain-zapping. It feels like there has (fuckin’ finally! I nearly quit twice!) been some improvement. I feel less totally-fuckin’-CRAZED with PTSD symptoms. I’m more relaxed, less anxious, not as tightly clenched-up and I haven’t dissociated for weeks!!! Victory! I’m also less foggy and more able to focus/concentrate/remember what I just read/etc. Score! I mean, yeah… it feels very similar to being flattened-out by medication but the ALL-CONSUMING URGE to fling myself in front of the oncoming metro is (somewhat) under control. Huzzah!

• Drewzilla is graduating (OMG! Three for three!).

• The much-improved friendship I’m finally (FINALLY!) experiencing with Peter. Things are different. I’m different. He’s different. Different is good! I’ll take some different!

• Our new apartment in a new neighbourhood! Big city livin’! Montreal is a living-breathing entity in the summer (and in the winter, too - but it’s basically MINUS 45C every.single.day. so, fuck that noise.)

So, yeah… just imagine if I WASN’T in so much pain that I wanted to eat a fuckin’ bullet every-waking-moment!

Life would be awesome!

In other news, there isn’t any.

::hobbles away, grumbling::

Last updated October 08, 2014