Tuesday, May 12, 2015

Nothing to fear.

MARCon was wonderful. I felt like me the entire weekend. I didn't dress to impress or wear a lick of makeup. Hello, world. This is me. I'm back.

I worked in Ops, which is sort of like "dispatch" for the convention, all the hours I was supposed to work. I saw many old friends and made a few new ones. I renewed one friendship, and began to heal another. I hung out with Pokemon and Darth Vader and Loki (double meaning there, wink wink.) I shared a room and many thoughts with one of my best friends, whom I am so glad is local. It was the best con ever.

Yes, I was in a lot of physical pain for most of the time, and I had no chemical crutch to lean on. The pain slowed me down a bit, but did not stop me (praise the gods.) I got to a point at which I just decided to own the pain and get on with things. That said, I slept nearly the entire day yesterday. I was so tired I fell asleep sitting up between the time Matt asked me what sounded good for dinner and when dinner was ready. I felt a little depressed, because I always do after conventions. Going from being surrounded by a flurry of crazy creative energy to the sudden quiet of being home is always jarring. I think I handled it fairly well, though. I feel back on top of things today, enjoying the beautiful weather. (I was awake just long enough to witness a massive thunderstorm yesterday afternoon.)

I am not going to process and dissect all the things that happened over the weekend. I am going to cherish it as a few of the best days I've had in years and refer back to it when I question my ability to get up and do. I am so grateful for my friends. I am so glad that things came together just the way they did. And really, that's it.

Feeling the love.

Tuesday, May 5, 2015

Can I please catch a break?

I was in the hospital again this weekend because of extreme vertigo. I was diagnosed with an inner ear infection and, coincidentally, a UTI. Lots of rest and fluids ordered, obviously. I missed a party I really wanted to go to, to prove to myself that I can still go to parties and have fun with people.

I am weary of being ill. There's always something. My back, my fibro, my kidneys. What a mess. And here I am, still trying to be happy, still trying to get out and do things. It isn't easy. I've gone back to smoking, which isn't good, but I do intend to quit when and if my breast reduction is approved.

This weekend is Marcon, the convention I go to every year. I always look forward to it and dread it at the same time. Lots of people, noise, over-stimulation. But it's also the only time I get to see some of my friends, to "get my geek on" and be with "my people." It's important that I go. I have to shove all of my "what ifs" aside. I deserve to have a good time.

It used to be that I went there "on the prowl" for some naughty fun. I have no shortage of willing lovers who have been asking after me. But I just don't feel sexy. I haven't shaved my legs since last year, which doesn't bother me or Matt, but in situations like Marcon, I feel like presentation matters. I wish I lived in a world that didn't expect women to shave everything below their necks. (Ironically, the only thing I shave regularly is my facial hair.) So, I don't know. I suppose I will take one outfit to go to room parties either Friday or Saturday night, but I am not intending to end up naked. It's just too much work. I'm too old for this shit. Wish I wasn't, but it appears I am.

Next weekend after, Kate and Paul are coming to live with us. The house is messy and I don't know what it will be like fitting all of their stuff in the apartment. I am glad I will have some more companionship. I hope to deepen my relationship with Kate. I am just worried because of past experiences living with other couples that started out great and ended up disasters. Again, it's another thing I am both looking forward to and dreading.

I am still feeling a loss of self. Not having my own space is a huge part of that, and that isn't going to improve any time soon. I envy people who don't seem to mind not having their own space. Matt's fine as long as he has a computer, but I need more than that to feel completely at home anywhere. I don't know how to work that out. I guess it was the only way I was really spoiled growing up as an only child. I even had private dorms at college.

Still been sleeping a lot during the day, but some of that is, obviously, because of illness. It's sleep and pills and pills and pills. I feel like my life is slipping away from me, and I don't have the guts to get up and live it anyway. I am just feeling generally weak.

I want to be me again. Or maybe, for the first time. I remind myself that I am one of Loki's. Loki is not a gentle god (usually), and his deal is breaking shit and then putting it back together better than it was before. I am somewhat comforted by the idea that I am merely in the midst of some kind of transformation. Time will tell.