Tag Archives: depression

So….

I am grateful that I have a home.

And not one but two oncologists who care about me (Dr. Lin and–always–Dr. Shaw).

Kumo is a comfort if sometimes an unwelcome responsibility–thank goodness for Susan who spells me when I am getting treatment.

My family and friends have been fabulous–both those who are close and those who are far and some whom I have yet to have the pleasure to meet. Thanks for checking in and for taking care of me in so many ways.

Jemesii, August and Peter, you’ve done a fabulous job of doubling down on staying in touch. Now, more than ever, you are my raison d’être. I love you.

Netflix, alcohol, weed and sleep–you’ve all played a solid role in keeping me this side of sane as well.

What would I change? Well, first there would be no bloody pandemic. Yup. Could have lived a lifetime without this tragedy on a world scale.

Secondly, I would not be alone. Social isolation is proving to be one of the most difficult challenges I have ever faced. Too much me time and this girl has the potential to get weird. And under extraordinary circumstances? Well.

I’d also love to have a garden and a little yard. Perhaps a secret path to an isolated beach. Someone to hold me at night.

And hey–wouldn’t it be great to be healthy as a baseline. Not in treatment. Hale and hearty. Head full of hair.

There’s no winding back on this reality though. I understand how fortunate I am compared to many. And the little bit of kick ass that I still possess keeps reminding me that there is the potential for personal growth here. And that I am in fact in need of some tweaking (I keep having dreams about closets that I thought were empty only to discover that they are in fact packed with shit that needs to be gone through).

I’ve always been a good pep talker and these days, I am my primary audience.

To that end: ass off the couch. It’s not yet cocktail hour 😉