Thanks, 2013...

Yeah, 2013 has run me over, backed up, then gotten out of it's car and given me a savage beating with a burlap bag full of oranges*.

I think it's funny how, at this very moment, my brain is super fogged from the muscle-relaxants/anti-inflammatories, my eyes ache, it's hard to focus on the screen or hit the correct letters on the keyboard, and everything from my neck to my stomach hurts when I draw in a breath...

...and it just occurred to me that I've had enough.

I'm done.

No more.

I'm sick of spinning around in frustration, confusion, regret, fear, and despair.

I'm sick of chastising myself, of analyzing past words & actions for hints that foreshadow the current circumstances.

I'm sick of giving in, of rolling over and exposing my soft, white underbelly** in anticipation of another kick.

I'm sick of making excuses for things that are not my fault, and for taking responsibility for them.

I'm sick of always putting other people's happiness first. Of being considerate. Of assuming I'll 'bother' someone if I actually say what I think, or ask for help. Of constantly pulling a barrier between my brain and my heart so I can maintain a calm, rational demeanour.


I'm sick of being 'the bigger person' in. Every. Single. Relationship. That. I. Have.


I don't have to.

I don't want to.


...and it irritates me to death that it's taken me this long to figure that out.

Maybe I'm slow. Maybe I'm in denial. Maybe, like someone recently told me, I always assume the best about other people, so I never expect it when the worst comes out.


2013, you suck, but I'm not going to let you win.


First thing on my list: throw out the meds that are doping me up. Physical pain I can deal with.

Second thing: read something

Third thing: write something

Fourth thing: go out and get a life, starting tonight, as the Victoria Film Festival kicks off, I've got a pass, and there are 23 movies I could watch between now and February 10 without skipping decompression treatments, starving my pets, or depriving my dog of daily jaunts to the off-leash dog park.

Fifth thing: I'll let ya know when I get there, but it's going to be, a) something that makes me happy, b) something irrational, irrelevant, and downright selfish. And, c) whatever it is, I'm not going to apologize for it.


...and y'know what? Even putting up this post counts towards #5, because seriously... the fact that I'm venting to this degree... to anyone, (especially in public) is something that never happens. 'Cause, y'know, what I think/feel could possibly bother or bore whoever I'm with... and no one wants that...

Normally in a bad situation, I do two things, the second of which is absolutely absurd. 1) Relay the facts in such a way that both sides are given equal credibility, or neutrality. 2) Keep a smile on my face so the person I'm with won't feel uncomfortable, or that they need to take my side.


Yup. When I was strapped to a clamshell stretcher Sunday night, being angled through tight ferry hallways and forced into too-small elevators which required the stretcher to be compressed to its smallest setting (and me too, which didn't help my back/ribs), and tilted so the restraints around my neck were like a noose, I kept a smile on my face. I made jokes with the EMT crew about how the hard plastic collar around my neck would keep me from licking my stitches. I asked how their shift was, if they had had a good weekend, and I thanked them for every small detail.

Even while worrying that I might have a spinal injury, that the left side of my body felt heavy and numb, that I had absolutely no family on that side of the water who could pick me up, take me home, and stay with me, that the pain was so bad there are no words to describe it and I was unable to prevent myself from screaming whenever the clamshell was forcibly tilted... I still was doing everything in my power to make sure I wasn't troublesome or annoying.***

Then I took a cab home instead of calling anyone, because it was after 10pm, everyone I knew had to work the next morning, and they all live about 40 minutes away from the hospital I was taken to. So, scared, hurt, and drugged to the gills, I flopped on my back across the bench-seat of a yellow cab, gave the necessary 30-second set of instructions so the driver could find my house, and prayed he would take me there swiftly & safely. Then I concentrated all my remaining effort on not throwing up.


So believe me when I say that posting this is the most selfish thing I have done in years.


I'm tired, 2013, but I'm even more tired of being a laid-back, supportive, friendly doormat who lays there and accepts that everyone who approaches is going to wipe the crap from their shoes on my good intentions, and keep walking without looking back.


Yet even after all this, I have to thank you 2013, because it's finally been hammered into my head that I can't change other people, all I can change is myself, and how I choose to interact with the people around me. Their happiness and success is not my responsibility.

The definition of insanity is to do the same thing over and over again and expect different results.****

...and yes, I find it funny that, even in a dark time such as this, I've found a silver lining, and I'm clinging to it like it's a life-line. I'm not sure whether that's a tragic flaw in my character, or one of my few redeeming features, but I've done enough self-analysis for one day.

That's it.

...and now is when I now fight the innate desire to delete this without posting it.

'Cause, y'know, it might bore or bother someone...



* don't ask
** reference to a previous post about my nephew, dinosaurs, and my incurable nerdiness, which I'm too lazy to link back to
*** is this normal behaviour for the youngest child?
**** Albert Einstein