plans, dreams, goals, the last five years, what's next

I got an anonymous comment on one of my blogs, that advised me to live my life, and make up for the last five years, and go and do all the things I had put on hold, while I was sick. To whoever it was that left me that comment, *bow*. I appreciate both your words, and the sentiment. And I will be endeavoring to be doing precisely that. In more ways than you can possibly imagine, I'll be packing as much actual living into my life for the next few years, into doing all of the things I wanted to do, while I was ill, as I can. I want to make up for lost time, for the things I couldn't do.

I am, now, today, in better shape than I've been in since my birthday in 1999. It's been ten years, and for all intents and purposes, this is as healthy as I've been for a decade. And I'm steadily getting physically more stable. I can, essentially, walk further and better than I've been able to in years. Not every day. Some things might never be perfect, and I accept that. But I'll take what I have, and run with it. And running with it means doing what I want, on my own terms, and those terms include a lot of things.

Making plans with Brody, to go out to her new place on the beach, for...however the hell long we feel like being there. Building castles in the sand, and dancing under the moon. Being *alive* again. I celebrated Ostara this year with some of my family, for the first time in years.

I'm not sure if every decision I'm going to make from here out is going to be the right one. But I'm simply going to go, and do what I want, and I'm going to live. With every breath I draw, I'm going to *live*. I want to dance, and laugh, and love. I didn't know who I was, for a long, long time, I didn't know who I was. I know who I am now. I look in the mirror, and I see me now, looking back. I *know* myself, now. This woman, here, is a person that I'm comfortable with, who I accept. This is a battle that was long fought, and hard-won. I earned this victory. But I didn't completely earn it alone.

Hawaiian? I love you. I love you for everything that you did for me, and with me, and for what you taught me. And I want you to be happy. I want you to be *so happy*. The gods know that you earned that, more than anyone else I will ever know. You went through hell, holding me up, and watching me fall, and then come back. And I will be grateful for that, forever. But we don't owe each anymore. I love you, but there's no more owing, on either side. Let it go, and be happy. You taught me, finally, how to be happy with myself, in a way that I never could, and you gave that to me. Take it with you, and go and be happy for yourself. I'm not something you need to be responsible for anymore. You have someone new to be responsible for now.

But knowing that I won, doesn't mean that I won't remember the demons. It simply means that I recognize who they are, and don't plan to open the gates and let them back through. Some things I can't control. I learned that lesson well. Some things I have absolutely no control over, and just have to deal. But the things that I can and do have control over? I don't plan to repeat my mistakes, over and over.

I'm sitting here, curled up on the couch, under a furry blanket, listening to the sound of rain against the windowpane. It's a sound I love to hear. Right now, everything is just fine. I have plans for tomorrow to eat at a place I truly enjoy, in the company of someone I enjoy. I'm on break from school. My cat is getting over being angry with me, and things are peaceful. For this moment, everything is just the way it should be.

And each day, I will work to have my day be just the way I'd like. And when it doesn't go that way? I'll have another day, where I'll pursue random pleasures, to make myself happy. Maybe it's shallow. Maybe not, maybe it's just that for a while, I want to live life to the fullest, and have a good time. If that means going to the beach, or to Disneyland, or to Great America, then that's what I'll do. Maybe I'll go up to Yosemite, and walk Dotel's Mist Hike, because that sounds like fun, even if it'll take me all day long. Because that sounds like something I'd enjoy doing, and taking photos of.

Trivial small things to make myself happy. Larger pursuits for the same reason. Taking dance classes. Taking photography classes, and Latin courses, and cooking courses. Any and all things, that engage my mind, and my body, and enrich my soul. Because that's what I want to do.

And that's the point, right? Making up for lost time, and that I'm no longer trying to find myself. I *did* find myself. And now, me and myself, want to go and *live*. And I want the people I love to go with me, join me, and sometimes I want to go alone. But a lot of it, I'm going to want to have company, because I'm tired of being alone. I've been alone a long time now. And I'm finished with that. The people who I still reach toward, the people I love, and I'm sure you will recognize yourselves immediately, I want to spend time with you, and make memories with, and have photographs showing my life. I don't want to be a ghost anymore. I'm alive, I want to be alive.

One last cry

We moved furniture around today. Mona's moving in, we moved her stuff completely out of Kat's place and into here. We still need to go to the storage unit and move that stuff over here, but everything she had at Kat's is here now. And we're packing up and moving Danny's stuff out. It's a weird feeling.

So I've been doing some packing up of my own, whilst this is going on. I hadn't realized it would need to be done. I should have, but I didn't, so it's kind of hitting hard at times. I packed up the stuffed animals he's given me over the years. Anniversary presents. Just because gifts. All the little mementos. I know that in the bottom drawer is the blanket I had custom-made that has our anniversary date on it...and I don't know what to do with it. So many things. I'm going to have to take that stuff down, because looking at it hurts. But I don't want to just trash it.

I feel like I've failed. I *have* failed. Seven years. Such a long time. The silly little yellow bird who chirps when I push the button on his tummy, that makes me smile when I'm sad. We had to get a new battery for him, a couple of months ago, because his finally ran out. Danny got a replacement battery for him at Radio Shack, and I did surgery on this little yellow stuffed bird, and now his chirp is as good as new...he wasn't an expensive toy or anything, but he made me smile...and now who will help me repair him if the battery dies again? And it breaks my heart, because I cried and cried when his chirp wouldn't work anymore. We got that little bird when I was in one of my worst spells of depression, and that little chirp made me smile when I couldn't stop crying. And Danny spent a couple of days figuring out how to fix that stuffed toy. He found the appropriate battery, and I stitched it up.

And I feel sad because all the problems aren't as easily repaired as my little yellow bird. It isn't that I don't love Danny. I still love him. He'll remain my best friend. But that's where it stops, because it has to. And as I look around, and slowly put the last seven years into boxes and cry, I realize that the tears will stop. I can continue on. It hurts, because this is life, and life hurts. But at the end of the day, I will move on. I can still smile. I know, because I was smiling earlier today.

It's going to take time. It's going to take space, and it's going to be hard. Nobody ever said it was going to be easy. But I can do this, and I should. I need to stand on my own two feet. I need to be myself again, and I need to feel these feelings.

And one day, I'm going to be able to sit down, and open the boxes, and read through the journals. And I'm going to smile and it isn't going to hurt. And the memories will be just memories, instead of pain. I'll have one last cry, and then I'll let it go. Because when I close those boxes, the new day will dawn, and I'm going to move forward.

I don't know what I want to do yet. I don't know anything. But I know that it's time to stop crying, and start living again.