auld lang syne

2017. it's been real.

you started off rocky, as you always do. i spent many nights crying myself to sleep worrying about how things were going to play out. i felt the most depressed i think i've ever been in a long time. i had a number of people keeping me grounded but there was an incredible amount of uncertainty about my future.

to fix all of this, i made a life altering decision to get my own place. i didn't care if i could hardly afford it. it was something i could change and i went for it. in april, i secured a place i could finally call home and be alone for the first time. this was one of the best decisions i made in 2017.

#views

with my own place down, i had two things left to focus on: my work and my health. these two weren't exactly up to me to conquer. these two tended to dick me around more than i'd like to admit. despite it all, my contract was finally renewed for another year and it came with a significant raise. i got extremely lucky in that i could almost afford my new apartment. 

now i had 2/3 of my biggest stressors resolved. in july, i started experimental ANF therapy for my health. i had immediate results and suddenly my knees felt like they were functioning properly in over two years. each session makes my body feel better. becoming nearly pain-free and feeling like i was back to having control over my body, i was able to continue getting stronger at the gym. my confidence in my walking/moving returned and the sadness faded.

i spent the summer focused on having as much fun as possible. in september, i took off on vacation by myself and went to ottawa for a few days. in october, i celebrated my birthday surrounded by good friends, good food, and good beer. i watched as my friends grew in their relationships and started moving onto that next step. i watched as, for some, that next step never happened.

2018 takes me out of my twenties and puts me into my thirties. i'll only believe that when i stop getting asked for ID to buy beer.

i know

i know that look.

i can't tell you how many times i've had to deal with that look. there's the good one and the bad one. and i get a mixture of both, and everything in between.

there's that look i caught you in the night we met. that seems like forever ago now. the conversation was going on at the other end of the table and there you were, staring right at me. i caught you and my shy self saw it as nothing. well, i saw it as something. i saw it as intrigue because i too was interested in what we were about to do here. sometime later, while i rested my head on you chest, i told you about that night when i saw you staring at me. you laughed it off like it was nothing. it was far from nothing. i know that look.

there's that look i get where i know your every intention. we all went out one night and i wanted to see how you would act. you did almost everything i thought you would, except for one. you barely said a word to me the entire night. but whether that was your play or your awkward self, it didn't change the way i was certain you felt about me. you used to ask me how things were going. at that party, you told me i was pretty. until you realized i didn't come to that party alone. when you spoke up in front of everyone, trying to help me out - that was the look. your circumstances may have changed, but i still see that look. i know that fucking look even if you don't.

there's that look that makes you do a double take. there's that look that says i'm too young to be dealing with this shit. there's that look that i can see you think i'm faking it. but nobody in their right mind would fake something like this. nobody should have to live like i do. there's that look i see when you're not trying to see me. there's that polite look that extends my faith in humanity for another second. there's that look that screams doubt and uncertainty. there's that look of sadness and disappointment. there's a look of your heart breaking and believe me, mine does the same.

but that look you gave me the last time i saw you was what made my heart hurt the most. i wasn't alone and your look changed almost immediately after that realization. you continued to press on like nothing had changed. and we'll continue to play this game as it shapes our past, present, and future.

all because of that fucking look.

(dis)abled

for whatever reason since i moved to toronto, i've been dealing with a seemingly never-ending list of ailments. the latest being the stupidity of my knees/legs not working properly. and let me tell you, toronto is hardly accessible for the functional pedestrian, let alone those who aren't quite able-bodied.

my knees got exceptionally bad the past couple weeks and i've been back on meds the last couple days with positive improvements. like the majority of toronto pedestrians, i spend a lot of my time commuting on the ttc during rush hour. i, like everyone else, still have to get to work, whether my knees work or not. i can't afford constant taxis (not an uber because windows phone problems), i can't always walk a long distance (or short distances some days) and i definitely can't bike.

on one particularly rough knee day, it's rush hour and i'm trying to get home. a couple of king streetcars pass by me, too packed for me to even begin to think about getting on. a third one comes along and although i've been standing around the longest, everyone rushes the streetcar before it stops. it looks like there might be some room and i make a move. i make it onto the streetcar and move about an inch from the white line and can barely stand on my own two feet. i have a very noticeable limp. i look around frantically to see if someone might be able to give up their seat for me. in the blue accessible seats is an older lady and two younger looking people. as i continue looking around and trying to make eye contact with anyone at all sitting down, i feel a small tap on my back and a quiet voice: "sweetie, do you need a seat?".

it's the older lady. the only one who has noticed me get on the streetcar and require a seat. now, the last thing i want to do is move this older lady from her seat because i need one. i also do not feel comfortable asking someone for a seat because they might have some sort of invisible, underlying disability. or maybe they've been on their feet for 8+ hours a day and the only time they got to sit down was their commute home. i can only hope that someone who is a bit more able-bodied than me at the time will be nice enough to get up and let me have their seat.

i smiled at the old lady, nodded my head, and said "yeah, i do. is that okay?". the second i said something, the two younger people got up from the seats and moved so i could sit down. i was grateful, but the entire situation could have been avoided if everyone paid attention to the people getting on the streetcar.

a similar encounter happened while i was with another friend during rush hour on the subway. a train rolls into the station as the two of us are on the escalator down. as we're in no real rush and i can't quite move that fast, we get off the escalator and take a few steps toward the train when the doors ding dang dong. a few more steps and we would have been on the train with no issues. instead, an older man barrels down the escalator at full speed, yells, and pushes right through us to get on the train, nearly knocking the two of us down in the process. the doors close and the train leaves while we try to gather ourselves back up and realize that an older man just pushed two young girls out of the way to get on a train during rush hour. i was dumbfounded. 30 seconds later, another train rolled into the station and we were on our way again.

a slight push in the wrong direction, a twist of my own body, or my foot touching the crack of a sidewalk the wrong way can cause me a lot of distress and a possible dislocation/sublaxation of my knees. i wear knee braces to minimize the risk of this happening, but there is always possibility. this is why my greatest fear is now people. i can only be so careful to avoid certain situations and crowds, but i still have to get around, get to work, get home, go to buy groceries, attempt a social life and try my best to continue living life to the best of my ability.

i think the biggest problem is that when you see my face, i look like a young and healthy girl. a young, normal girl with knees that don't work the way they should.

please be mindful of those around you and don't fucking barrel through people. i assure you, the last thing you want to do is hear me scream if my knees dislocate. i guarantee you will be hearing that scream until you die. just ask my coworkers in that kitchen during the summer of 2011.

some search for things to burn

"until we all feel, we have enough things, to burn"

i've always had a difficult time saying no. saying no to people. saying no to things. saying no to work. saying no to anything. i'm a person who tries to give other people and other things the benefit of the doubt. and more often than not, it tends to screw me over.

as i'm getting older, i'm learning to say no as much as i can without it maybe screwing me over. although, at times, it will continue to fuck up my life. like that one time i said no at my last job and it played into my eventual demise with the company. that place was fucked with or without me and i saw it as a good thing.

i never said no when i was younger. i had a bad habit of treating friends who weren't very good to me better than how i treated myself. these friends would end friendships out of the blue for no reason (or a variety of reasons to be discussed at a later date) and come crawling back months or years later. and sometimes, i took them back. only to have the same thing happen again, and again, and again. i never fucking learned. i never understood how someone i thought was a friend could hurt me as much as they did.

i grew up and kept making the same mistakes with new friends, with old friends, and with dudes. until one day when it was about to happen, i said no.

there are 4 examples that stick out in my mind.

an acquaintance in high school had a thing for one of my friends. she would fuck around with every dude, including his friends, and not him. we kept in touch briefly after high school and then that ended for whatever reason. he goes through stages of adding/removing me as a friend on facebook for years. one day, he adds me back and confesses he's living in toronto with the girl. we hang out without the girl (because she already hates me) and things are fine. weeks later, i found out he (probably) stole some of my shit and had removed me from facebook. did i learn my lesson? nope, not yet. a little while later, he adds me back and tells me they broke up. i don't care. i don't even want my shit back. he goes back and forth deleting and trying to add me again until i finally said no and blocked him. i'm not sure what he wanted me to do for him, but i wasn't interested to have that kind of negativity in my life.

one of my better friends in high school did a similar thing, where she got really upset with me for saying something about a dude she was dating at the time. i have no idea what i said but apparently it was grounds for removing me from facebook without cause. when i finally noticed, i probably sent a message asking what the hell. she told me, i told her i didn't remember, and that was apparently it. by this time, she was already engaged to somebody else. i didn't care. i already knew this was the end of friendship and i'm pretty thankful for that.

i got pretty close to a friend after a year in university. the next year, we're hanging out and as far as i'm aware, things are just fine. i go home and don't hear from him for what seemed like a really long time. it's unusual, but maybe he's busy. he tells me he was mad at the way i left him the last time we hung out. he was mad because i didn't look at him when i was leaving. i don't even know what that means. he then goes on to tell me we were never friends. alright - we hung out every day for an entire year, but nope, we're not friends.

the last one is probably the worst one, because it's the broest bro doing bro things while not even being a bro. this dude i met through a friend and he became obsessed with me to the extent where he would make up fake profiles and send me horrible things. he didn't like me not being interested in him. little did i know at the time, he was one of the first of many dudes i would encounter who were exactly the same.

and maybe these people don't really have a purpose in my life. and whether i like it or not, they'll always try to come back to me. the trick is remembering i can say no at any time. and i don't owe shit to anyone who has hurt me before.

not exactly

i've been asked by several friends lately why i'm no longer writing. they list a number of excuses and my only response is "not exactly."

i didn't stop due to a lack of things to talk about. in fact, that's the complete opposite issue that i'm facing. and maybe it's partly because i have trouble organizing my thoughts well enough to write down what it is that's bothering me. i'll be honest though. there are hundreds of reasons why i stopped writing, but it all boils down to one main common theme: time.

i don't have time to write.

i could go on for an eternity as to why my days are so full of doing things. but that's the price of adulthood - or in some cases, a lack thereof, if you're the only one who does things. outside of work, i practice self-care and it has become an integral part of my being. it will hopefully continue to speed up the healing process and let me someday live a normal life again. or at least, that's my end goal. while i'm not where i was a year ago and there's definite progress in healing, it doesn't happen overnight. i've come to terms with this even when everyone else hasn't. i refuse to let it slow me down (although sometimes it still might - hey, wait up, i got these tiny little legs!)

it becomes increasingly difficult to have a well rounded life when two, well, three things take up the majority of my time. but when i can remove certain variables, more time becomes an option. even though time these days is almost an illusion. hell, look at this 4.5 day weekend right now. where the fuck did it go?

in just 5 days, i'll have my own place for the first time in 29 years. since moving to toronto nearly 6 years ago, my goals included getting a job and moving out on my own. i've had hit and miss roommates, including one roommate from literal hell that makes me never want to live with anyone ever again. okay, that's an exaggeration. maybe i'll get lonely. maybe i'll always need someone around to reach those items on the top shelf. but the idea of being on my own is the most exciting and scary thing going for me right now. i need the independence. i need the quiet. i need the ability to do my own thing.

it might be difficult to understand, but after living with a roommate you don't particularly enjoy, it changes you. unfortunately for me, my roommate situations haven't always been the best. and i'm ready for that next step to call my own place home with just a single tenant occupancy. but fuck, toronto, could you calm your shit with the rent prices? it took 6 years to get to a point where i could finally afford to be somewhere without roommates and compared to most friends, i'm extremely good with my money.

time might be the biggest common theme with my lack of writing but there is always more to the story. when you really enjoy doing something, there's always time for it. i've spent the better part of the last two years or so spending less and less time on social media. my blog and everything it was set out to do, didn't quite serve a purpose any longer. i continuously had all these thoughts in my mind where i'd think that the topics would make a fantastic blog post and no time to write them. this is one thing i want to change. writing used to be an outlet for me to understand whatever was stressing me out. whatever was keeping me up at night. these stressful things no longer keep me awake at night. instead, they get overlooked and pushed away.

maybe it's because i can't change the things i complain about regarding work. maybe it's because i don't have any complaints about dudes in my life because there's only one who makes things better and not worse. maybe it's because i don't tend to complain about life as a whole as much any longer. maybe i'd rather listen and help than attempt to bore you with the little things that bother me. maybe it's because despite it all, things are finally coming together the way they're meant to be, even if it isn't what i expected 6 years ago.

maybe i'll write again in a week or a year. maybe i just need more time.