Posted by Roberta Lipp on October 26, 2010
Today is my half birthday. People who know me well, and people who’ve read my blog for these near five years, know that I have always revered my half birthday. As an adult, it is one of those things that I maintain partly to be playful, and partly because it is genuinely another marker, albeit a quiet one. Also, it’s April vs. October, and I really dig both. And I’ve always liked my birth date–the 25th.
So I obviously have not been writing in quite awhile. The health thing is moving along–I have been to a few doctors and have had several tests and procedures. Basically I’ve learned that really everything is okay–nearly seven years later, my insides, where the gastric bypass happened, look great. I’ve ascertained that I am not pre-diabetic, although at one point I was told that I was. My iron and D were down, but both look better now that I’m taking supplements. Overall stuff is okay. My vocal cord though, is still TBD–there is still soreness (although in fairness, I have not stuck anything resembling perfectly to the doctor’s “don’t” list) and I go back to the ENT in a week to take a look and see what’s what. In the meantime, with all these different things being revised at the same time, who knows what was causing the fatigue. I was starting to get depressed over all of it–no convincing diagnosis, no end in sight, and this horrible fatigue. Adding to that I started thinking I was really creating the fatigue, that by just indulging it and being lazy was making me think there was a condition that wasn’t even there. And then one day, and really it was one day, it lifted. My throat started doing a bit better that day as well, so maybe it was the stress on the cord itself wearing me out. I don’t know if I’ll ever know. So that was about five weeks ago.
And since then things are shifting. Well really, right before then, the day before in fact, I got a cat. Sweet Potato. He’s about ten years old and ginormous, and I took him because he needed a home and I just thought–There’s no reason right now for me not to have a cat. I’ve always had a reason. I’ve lived in many places that won’t allow it, but really I just never thought I could handle the responsibility. I still don’t think I can, but I’m ignoring those thoughts. It was quite a thing–at first I just didn’t love him, and I was really freaked out by his presence. Like, really freaked out. Also, he was unsettled and an amazing pain in the ass. Kept me up nights for over a week. And also I thought he was five years old until about halfway through the first week, so I didn’t understand his demeanor. Once I got his paperwork, he just started to make more sense. He’s not like doddering or anything, but nor is he a 5 y/o kitty cat in the prime of his life. Now I just adore him, and he loves me madly, and I can’t believe I have a cat.
Look, I hate to sound like a broken record, but the bulk of my emotional interest right now stems from my relationship with Bert. (Can I just say how hard it is to have a fake name for someone? I want to just call him his name. But I also want to always speak freely about him here and not have to worry about his identity.) This relationship I have with him is so special–we have a way of relating with each other, nurturing, educating, inspiring, humbling, mocking–it is exquisite. And I continue to work through layer upon layer of what I bring to men, namely my low and rotten expectations of them. No matter how much I anticipate that Bert will disappoint me or back away from me, he just doesn’t. And I am just left staring at the empty bag that used to carry my low and rotten expectations–my assumptions, as well as my disappointment, abandonment, and overall hurt in it. And I just stare at it, the empty bag that used to carry all this, always surprised that I’d been holding it. Again.
There have been other pushes; shift-causing events that I’m not sure I’m writing about for now. Also being a bit depressed for a few weeks and being fatigued for so much longer, starting to come out of that has been interesting. I still am not at full capacity, but there have been a few fun nights out, including a makeout session with a boy, seeing some old friends’ bands play, and a costume party.
There have also been some things happening at work. I’m attempting to light the world on fire in there, and so far, I have some major players on board with me. Everything will be changing there in the next six months or so, and I have decided to be part of creating that change, rather than seeing what trickles down for me after it happens.
I’m willing to celebrate me with a bit more frequency and enthusiasm. In many ways I know I’m the luckiest girl in the world, even when I’m feeling sorry for myself and am convinced that I’m the unluckiest. Neither are the truth, but it’s certainly more fun to get behind the former, right?
Happy half birthday. Halfway to 91, man. That is something.