Monday, the 16th June, marks the end of a Chapter in my book of “Me.”
My last day of my 30’s.
I think it prudent to reflect because, quite frankly, I feel like shit. If March comes in like a lamb and goes out with a lion, for example…that would be how the decade of my 30’s has played itself out.
Then I got to thinking, “Ya, but do *other* people see it the same way?”
I should think, likely not. They may say how I’ve grown, how I’ve learned…become wizened to social and spiritual interactions and the embodiment of self-evolution…
I often feel lost and lonely in the disillusionment of the very same things other people may purport I excel in. My success in the health activism I spew is the result……………………of having a f\m/king autoimmune disease I never wanted. An asshat of a disease that threatens my heart so that at every sneeze I secretly cross my fingers that 1) I don’t pee my pants, and 2) my heart doesn’t crap out.
By putting myself “out there” for so long, and so deeply…it attracts the attention of those who need my words, and those who long to use those words to concoct fallacies and rumor and spread it thick like peanut butter in a world of anaphylaxis.
And yet, I anticipate. I anxiously await the arrival of Tuesday, June 17th, 2014, like a kid awaits Santa Claus.
Not because I won’t be able to drive my car until I can get it to pass the E-test…and our money is tied up in finding a way to get our dog her ear surgery…
Not because I have been so busy putting out my physical and emotional resources into crafting a national championship, or of managing a Condo repaving project from HELL…getting reamed by residents and unit owners who show up at my home at 10:00 on a Saturday night or call during dinner hour…
…that I TOTALLY and completely forgot to plan a “Colour!” party for myself for this most amazing day-that-I-cannot-wait-to-arrive.
I can’t wait for the page to turn to this new Chapter because it’s going to be, quite certainly, the BEST Chapter my book* will contain, to date.
(*I’m starting to write my book…this year! “Even SuperHeroes Chug Mocha-Vodka-Valium-Lattes”)
Now, mostly I write how much I loathe my birthday, and moreso because this year will be the 20th anniversary of “The Night”…and I’m still alive. I bear the scar that saved my life on my left hand. I continue to fight the mental demons that threaten my emotional health from all of the recent news articles and reports of women dying at the hands of men…and of all the horrifying, triggering details that end up with me having an Ugly Cry on the floor with my blind rescue dog who needs a tumour and her ear canal removed.
We’re such a sexy pair. 😉
It’s going to be like a lightswitch, because when I wake up that Tuesday morning…I am going to CHOOSE to be:
A new person?
I am going to choose to be, at that exact moment, the precise culmination of every lesson I’ve learned to date…every challenge that I’ve overcome…every heartbreak and backstab and inspiration and success that I have poured every ounce of soul I have EVER had in myself…
And I wonder what, exactly, it’s going to look like.
Perhaps I’ll be less “visible” in life.
Perhaps I’ll be more “visible” in life.
I don’t know.
And, for once, the uncertainty doesn’t scare me in the least because it’s for no one but “Me.” to discover.
I’m going to continue to look up at that beautiful Cosmos (the good one, not the asshat one) and
understand believe that I’m a f\m/king miraculous piece of existence within timeless space and unlimited boundary.
Kind of like the feeling I have in my soul right now that is too big for words, yet not big enough as to have fulfilled its purpose.
I can’t wait.
Is it here yet? 😀