Lotus Land

Well, internets, it's time to bid you adieu.

Just for a little while. Only for a little while.

I'm on vacation, you see. Hurrah! Vacation! And it's a true vacation - I'm going away! I haven't gone away on vacation in years - not for anything that wasn't centered around family events. So, I am quite excited. Even if I do feel that I haven't earned it. Oh well.

I'm heading to British Columbia for a week. I'll be leaving the pup with my brother and his gal in their new house. Oh, the nerves. I sent a much-too-long list of instructions to them, and I'm sure the pup will have more luggage than I will. She'll be fine, though, and I hope they have good weather for the dog park. Ellie and I even went on a dog date and went to an off-leash dog party this week. It was fantastic! I should've taken pictures. Next time, I promise.

We (my partner and I) will be visiting his parents on the Sunshine Coast for most of the trip, but we'll also be spending a day or so in Vancouver. We have to visit his family in Van, as well as hit up the aquarium, sea wall, the public library, and probably a tea shop and a typeset and stationery shop. Eep. Excitement.

I'll take far too many photos. I promise.

Which reminds me - I've gotta get packing!

Talk to you soon, folks. I hope you all have a lovely week.

And oh, the run-on sentences.

Errg. Everything is not okay. Work and the dog are doing well, but that's about it. I suppose that's a lot, though it doesn't feel like much, considering.

I feel like I've wasted another year and that I haven't learned anything - that I've let everything fall apart again, despite all of the great supports that are in place.

I didn't feel that my work on a paper was worth handing in, and I had difficulties even putting those thoughts in print, as I was so certain that I hadn't prepared myself properly or given myself enough time. For those reasons, I didn't hand in the final exam/paper and didn't feel that it was fair to ask for any more time. I felt awful about my work and myself, and as I'm unable to separate myself from my illness, I felt that there wasn't much to say..

I screwed up. I am a screw up. The semantic differences in those statements is lost on me, and that doesn't seem, to me, to be an adequate reason to give me more time or (yet) another chance.

As I survey the wreckage, it just seems like I should either learn to clean up after myself or stop making messes. I'm exhausted at the thought, but I know everyone else is too, and they're going about their days and handing in work, so I should be too.

I stupidly scheduled a therapy appointment and then picked up a work shift on the same day. I spent the day in the fresh air, which was lovely, save for worrying about the papers I haven't handed in because I think everything I write is awful, despite ample proof to the contrary, and the sleep that eludes me because of the worry and the joint dislocations and the concern that I won't do well anywhere if I can't behave like a normal human being for more than six months at a time or without expensive pharmaceuticals.

And oh, the run-on sentences.

So, that is how I am doing. And not doing.

I hope that all of you are doing infinitely better.

In the eye of the storm

It is crunch time, Internets.

I have four papers due this week, along with oodles of academic paperwork, plus two exams to write next week. Eep.

So, I'll keep this short.

I just wanted you all to know that I am, indeed, alive. I'm keeping on keeping on, as one of my former therapists would say, and I'm doing my very darndest to keep my head above water, both metaphorically and literally, as the snow melts and the streets flood.

I'm counting down the days until I can hightail it to the other side of the country. I'll be vacationing on the West Coast with my partner and his family later this month, and we have a move scheduled to the Lotus Land for the autumn.

The pup is doing well, aside from desperately needing a grooming to keep her long hair from dreading. She's in good spirits these days and is becoming more relaxed as she learns to trust and to follow commands. We're always working to socialize her and get her used to strangers and sudden noises and movements, but we're doing so with renewed commitment, as she could qualify as a psychiatric service dog. We just need her to be able to perform a few tasks that help me with my disabilities, as well as make her generally bomb-proof in public. That last part will be the hardest, I am certain. It may never happen, but it's a goal we can work towards.

Well, back to paperwork, and then we're off to work. Take care, internetland.