If this was your last day alive, what would you do?

I am often troubled by the suicides of talented people who have accomplished so much more than me, have immense talent I could never hold a candle to, and are funnier than I will ever be.

True, I don’t have a drug habit or alcoholism but I could have. It would, at the very least, give me the affectation and air that would make my dark outlook intriguing and artistic rather than just bitter and cynical.

I'm sad when good people get to that point. I almost wrote what I actually think of human existence but I was afraid that in doing so you, dear reader, would think that I am ready to check into a hotel and drink antifreeze.

I have far too many obligations to other people to kill myself right now, thanks.

***

I often sleep to late on weekends to take my Wellbutrin. If I take it after 9 AM I won't be able to sleep that night. That means I often spend Saturdays and Sundays in this half-asleep stupor with a low blood sugar headache because I am too sleepy to make something to eat.

Clearly, I am an idiot. I also almost always shut off my alarm before getting out of bed because I know it's a weekend morning.

More idiocy.

2012. Bring it on.

Another year has passed on this planet. In the grand scheme of the universe and everything that’s like five seconds, but in the context of a single human lifetime it becomes less and less meaningful as time goes on.

I mean, when you’re five a year might be the maximum of what you have ever remembered. When you’re 40 a year represents, one-fortieth of your entire life, and possibly one-thirty-fifth of everything you have ever remembered. As someone who has lived one pay period to the next for about 20 years entire years go by in with little regard. Or much to show for them.

2011 passed with few remarkable moments in my life. Having the Gl*tterB*tches set a new fundraising benchmark, getting to meet Amy, the Vancouver Stanley Cup riot, quitting my horrible job and Joe finishing school is my long list of things I remember. Hardly earth-shattering stuff, but not insignificant.

No matter how I try, I find this clean slate and unmarked calendar a little intimidating. Will this be the year that I actually *do* what I know how to do to be a productive human being? Or will this be the same year of frustration, anxiety, good intentions and failure everyone single other one has been.

Barring a lottery win, I think I already know the answer.

Three years.

There is a view of the Lions that can only be had from the SkyTrain on the track between Main Street - Science World and Commercial-Broadway Stations. Because of how fast the train moves and how crappy my camera is I've never been able to catch a non-blurry photo of it. I'm not incredibly enamoured by the mountains, but that 1 minute of time is my favourite view of my favourite range.

Not the view, but close...

Photo By vermillion$baby on flickr.com

Today is my third MS-iversary. I've been trying not to feel anything about today at all. I've failed, because I'm just sad. Every single thing about my life changed three years ago, leaving nothing untouched. I've obsessed over every choice I have ever made, wondering constantly if I would have had the life I do if I had been diagnosed with this when I was younger, or if I had questioned any of the crazy things my brain had done earlier in my life.

But mostly I just feel ugly and stupid. My cognitive issues plague me. I can't remember things and have constant problems with word selection and that makes me feel like an idiot, especially when people laugh at my stupid word choices. I still weigh 40 lbs more than I used to and I don't even recognize my body when I catch a glimpse in the mirror. My hair and skin have been fucked up since the mitoxantrone and no amount of skin and hair consultations have fixed it.

The good stuff is that Joe and I are still together, we're still very much in love and I would not be where I am if it were not for him. He's exactly 5 days away from finishing his BA in Poli-Sci and I could not be more proud of him for sticking it out and doing as well as he did in spite of the fact that he has a sick, crazy wife and very little money or available credit.

I have not used a cane in over three months, probably closer to four. I have not had to go to bed immediately upon arriving home from work in more than two years. I have a job that, while not incredibly fulfilling or interesting, pays the bills and does not leave me suicidal. I can walk, I have 20/20 vision, very little in the way of intrusive MS symptoms, and I continue to hope for a cure and a way to undo the damage already done.

My MS Walk page will be up in the New Year and I hope to work with Team Gl*tterB*tches to do one big event as well as our regular fund raising. I love my B*tches. They're great people and another bit of good stuff in my life.

I continue to put one foot in front of the other and suit up and show up for my daily obligations. I remain hopeful that one day I will figure out what I want to be when I grow up and that will allow me to not be broke while being happy.

I'm going to try to do things differently in the next year. I don't want to say what, or how, because every time I make broad pronouncements about what I want to do I fail miserably. One thing I have found out in the past year is that people who love you so very rarely hold you accountable for failures if they don't think what you're failing at is important or necessary.

I think about the past too much. If you've known me since before 2003 I'm probably thinking about you right now.

Brainz - An Update (I forgot to post this 3 weeks ago)

October 13, 2011

1) Seeing me makes my neurologist smile. My "initial disease presentation was as close to the worst as it gets" and the fact that I am doing as well as I am is pleasing to her.

2) My MRI remains unchanged from year to year. My lesion load is stable with no new lesions found.

3) I have 1-2% nerve damage in my fingers and toes.

4) I have some minor spasticity in my calves, the left being worse than the right and causing some uncontrolled movements.

5) My mission to learn how to run again has been improved by my neurologist because the latest recommended treatment for MS is 30 minutes of moderate exercise every day. Running/fast walking for 15 minutes a day counts in her mind, though she told me to take it easy and don't push too far or too fast.

6) I am to continue doing "exactly what" I have been doing: Copaxone, Wellbutrin, 5000 IUs of vitamin D, and daily exercise.

***Edit November 1, 2011***

I feel really good physically and the change I made in employment has been a positive one for my mental health. Got some good news today regarding that job, so I'll find out later this week or next what my near-term status is going to be.

It is at times like this I wish I were more superstitious about other things than actions to take during the Stanley Cup playoffs.

Just sitting.

Two weekends ago I had my house and my routine (that was going awesome and everything) totally upended. The first weekend was just awful, spent running around trying to fix things. I spent the two days of the weekend wanting to curl up in a ball and cry. The situation got fixed come the following Monday but it has cost us some space in the house. I needed a day or two to recover. I got up and went to work and that was that.

I started coming down with a cold on Saturday morning. I beat it into submission with liberal doses of cold medication, vitamin C and hot honey and lemon beverages. I still have some sniffles but I am mostly a functioning human being.

Which brings me to my life.

It's now been a week since the upheaval and everything is still not right here. I have zero will to go back to my routine. It's like it got messed up so now it's going to take me forever and ever (or until the mess drives me crazy) to get back to it.

These are the first words I have written in a week. I do not find them satisfying.