the nurse returned my call.
i have an appointment with the doctor later this month and as a result, she doesn't think it would be appropriate to pursue any treatments this month. wait and see what the doctor prescribes, she says.

my heart tightens and i close my eyes to stem the tears.
waiting...again.
stupid blunted surges. fuck!

i'm angry and frustrated. the polypectomy this past summer hasn't resolved my heavy menstrual cycle and i can feel my flow gushing freely. wearing the heavy pads and using the ultra absorbent tampons isn't stopping the blood from soaking through my pants either. lovely. just lovely.

and now, my ovulation cycles aren't firing off, though a common reality in women my age.

but, one more month? i've come this far, having taken the tests, completed the recommended surgery, selected and ordered my donor sperm...and yet, i'm still in a holding pattern. i had hoped that i would have at least had a few treatments by now, but obviously the universe thinks otherwise. 

my body is simply not in its optimal state - that's the reality. too many years of stress, emotional eating, trauma and recovery, have taken its toll and in truth, i'm a bit of a mess. and like many woman in my situation and age, the ticking clock is loud, which doesn't help our anxiety levels. patience isn't an ally in this case.

as i flip through my photo album, i find a picture that i took a few summers ago. in my parking spot, a lone plant grew from out of the pavement. despite the harsh urban setting, nature still found a way to adapt, grow and flourish. i remember, at the time, being in awe of the seed's resilience to set roots and its audacity to thrive alone in concrete.

so let's look at this from a different perspective, i tell myself. yes, the odds are against me, but it gives me one more month to continue with my commitment to do better by my body - focus on my physical health. eat cleaner, lose some weight, and lower my blood pressure. and yes, the doctor might have some other recommendations to help things along and those are all positives. 

so, what's one more month?
it's a gift in time to set the stage for adaptation.

i can do it.
i have to do it.
and i'm not afraid to do it.

because i'm a priority in my life.
for the first time in a long time, i want something badly enough to make it happen.
because i have to believe that in making this choice, miracles will happen.
and...i just want the one miracle.
.

"you must make a choice, to take the chance, or your life will never change."

"intentions can change reality."

"be a priority in your life."

"stop waiting. life moves faster than you think."

it's been raining for most of the day - a consistent and persistent rain. i imagine rain droplets as little molecular soldiers, all with a mission to land and penetrate the soil. there's a respite at the moment...the rain on pause. despite the rain, lady humidity lingers about making herself at home. lady humidity and i aren't friends...i find her presence annoying. for now, i'm willing to tolerate her presence...better her than the hoards of unwanted pollen that have been dancing about in the air for the past few weeks.

i look at my list of draft posts, debating whether to finish one of the dozen or so blogs that I've started or to start a new one. i'll be honest, i'm not feeling particularly inspired at the moment. but i do have the urge to do something...to unleash myself and feel the rawness, to be humbled, and to fall forward. i also have an urge for a coffee and cigarette.

i'm single and i struggle with depression and personal demons. on a rainy day like today, it would be so easy to fall into myself. but i look over to my wall of post-it notes and i'm reminded of the goal i set out for myself on my 40th birthday last year - to do 40 remarkable things, big and small. it's not meant to be a bucket list, but a reminder to myself that i don't live in a rut. i'm reminded of a recent The Time of My Life by cecelia ahern, where the protagonist lucy silchester has an appointment with her life and she has no choice but to meet it face to face. in the end, lucy sums it up quite nicely:

"as long as you're around, your life is too. so just as you shower love and affection on the husbands, wives, parents, children and forever friends who surround you, you have to do so equally with your life, because it's yours, it's you, and it's always there rooting for you, cheering you on, even when you feel like you can't do it. i gave up on my life for a while, but what i've learned is that even when that happens and especially when that happens, life never gives up on you. mine didn't. and we'll be there for each other until those final moments when we will look at each other and say, 'thanks for staying until the end.' and that's the truth."

i've done just that this past year - found ways to invite life back into my life - to celebrate with it. in other aspects, i removed things that no longer had purpose or were hindering my life. i didn't reach my goal of 40, but that's not important - i tried, and along the way, learned things about myself.

1. attended the rcmp musical ride - i've never been on the grounds of the rcmp stables to see the musical ride - i've toured the facilities and will often try to go out at dusk while the horses get some freedom to roam the fields. but it was impressive to see the riders in unison. bonus: my neighbour was performing as one of the riders.
2. tried a new recipe - can't remember which one prompted me to write this, but i started a pinterest board of the recipes i have tried and liked. 
3. got rid of my landline - i'm now living the cellular life. this was an exercise of letting go.
4. met my idol rebecca caine -  i fell in love with her voice as christine in phantom of the opera and cosette in les miserables. i fell in love with rebecca even more when at the concert, she performed a song that was once performed by deanna durbin, my ultimate idol. i belted out showtunes on the car ride home. 
5. said good-bye to my honda civic, welcomed a toyota yaris - another exercise of letting go. my honda civic and i had a 17 year relationship and to let her go, that was hard. 
6. finished the book "saved by a poem" by kim rosen - i had had the book for over a year and finally was able to return it to its owner. bonus: a few months later, through serendipity, i ran into its owner, my former counsellor.
7. saw spiegelworld, an adult only circus show - i've seen circus shows, hell, i even dated and slept with a clown, but this show was funny, sexy, sensual and mildly dirty. 
8. i went camping - solo car camping in fact, with hewey. i wasn't sure how hewey would do so we slept in my new toyota yaris, and as a little bonus, we car camped in a walmart parking lot too. 
9. went to the CNE - i didn't try any rides as i was there for work, but it was an experience unto itself. 
10. enrolled into a dog trainer certification program - it was an intense first semester and i still feel there is so much to learn about dog behaviour, cognition and training. unfortunately, i had to postpone the second semester to the following year. 
11. went through jury selection process - i did my civic duty and presented myself at court. i was excused as i had a business trip scheduled. i do however still wish to be part of a jury one day - as long as its not a sexual assault case. 
12. attended the scotiabank nuit blanche - from 6pm to 6am, i ran all around toronto to see the various works by artists. i'll never attend this event again. i simply wasn't impressed with the thematics nor the curation, and each year it gets worse.
13. got rid of my office shelf - another exercise in letting go, but happy that it has found a new home and used to keep all my nieces toys organized.
14. cancelled a credit card - another exercise in letting go, and a continued effort to declutter and simplify my life. 
15. held a stag beetle - it was quite remarkable to be holding such a large bettle and have it crawl up my arm. stag beetle i can handle. spiders crawling up my arms, no.
16. ate a chocolate covered cricket - the best comparison would be, it was like eating chocolate covered rice crispies, only a better protein option! i doubt i'm ready to eat slugs though *shudder*
17. submitted my cv and resume - i seek new challenges and new opportunities at work. to keep my options open, i need to keep my resume in circulation. 
18. hired as a dog trainer teaching assistant - an opportunity to work with clients and their dogs, while at the same time applying what i've learned. 
19. held a snake and i liked it! - i understand the fascination of snakes now that i've held one. it was an amazing experience to feel their muscle contractions as they moved, as well as feel the delicate flicker of their tongue on my skin. 
20. attended my first meet-up event - a friend and i challenged each other to attend 1 social gathering a month and to expand our network. so as my first meet-up, i picked an introduction meet up sessions for we are the ducklings. it snowed 50cm that night and i still made it out. 
21. signed up to be a we are the ducklings member - in a future post, i'll write about this group and why i joined. 
22. attended my first art battle - it was an amazing experience to watch artists create a painting in 20 minutes. bonus: i bought a painting!
23. volunteered with habitat for humanities - not wanting to give up using my volunteer day, i signed up with habitat for humanities - used a drill, sawed and painted walls/ceilings. all in all, a great day!
24. groomed a horse - well a pony really. i could have spent the whole afternoon brushing its mane.
25. de-boned a leg of lamb - i had watched a number of videos on how it's done, but in the end, a one-on-one tutorial with a chef is so much better. 
26. attended nature nocturne - it was an adult night at the museum with really expensive drinks, dj music and poorly lit fashion show. i doubt i'll ever attend another nature nocturne event. 
27. made cold-pressed soap - it was a group event, but now that i'm using my hand-made soap, i'd love to try it again with different essential oils. 
28. accepted a new work assignment - i've been given the chance to challenge myself, finally!
29. found a lost dog - put to use all the lessons i've learned about dog behaviour and watching dog rescue videos.
30. attended my 1st canine seminar - while much of the presentation repeated things i've learned in class and through the reactive rover classes, it was still a great opportunity to be in a room with so many other dog trainers, rescue works and pet owners. 
31. visited an organic farm - well a commercial organic farm, cuz lets face it, my parents garden is a fully organic farm as well. but they don't have a pen with 100 chicks!
32. donated blood - well, i gave a pint of my blood and still waiting to hear if my blood is usable. along the way, i got to meet and interact with network of friends.
33. attended a school of sex workshop - it was part of a we are the duckling event. as an event planner, i was disappointed. but on a personal front, it challenged me to meet and talk with other men. the resulting experience will most likely be a future blog post.
34. signed up for sex therapy workshop - the subject is on body image and it finishes with a boudoir photo shoot! Time to add some new articles of clothing to my wardrobe!

i have a bieber song in my head. it's been stuck there since the morning with the refrain "sorry" repeating itself like a broken record. i give credit to the kid - the song has a catchy tune, but i'm no bielieber. and with the mood i'm in right now, it's not improving my emotional state.

i think of poet Kim Rosen and her teachings. i suspect there's something in the lyrics that has nicked my nerves. a quick google search for the lyrics drums up hundreds of web results and i choose one, skimming over the words - literally, a fast read. i make sure not to connect with the words - i have the tune stuck in my head, i have no desire to have the lyrics "written on the bones," as Kim would say. no, i'm in no mood for either forgiveness or second chances - these being the words that pop out from the screen. i keep the veil of cynicism cloaked around me, guarding all my supressed frustrations and annoyances. it forms a slick layer of grease on my skin and it irritates me further.

it's february and the weather is fucking gorgeous. the sun shines brightly outdoors - the light bouncing off the white snow. it's a scene that is postcard perfect, and yet, i feel like it's mocking me. i imagine all the people outside soaking in their required vitamin D, and a battery symbol with the percentage of the charge level above each of their heads.

who is at full?
who is maximizing their efficiency for their charge to last?
who is running on empty?
and their charge level, is that indicative also of their level of happiness?

i want to be happy. i often pretend i'm happy - the mask goes on and i resemble someone who has their shit together. but i'm on the verge of cracking. i slip - i keep forgetting to lock my door at night. i gorge on food and smoke cigarettes. i wring my hands and clasp them tightly. i sink back into the hole in the sidewalk. i disconnect. and this all irritates the shit out of me too.


distractions - i seek them out. i'm on edge and the bieber song isn't helping me - it's like chinese water torture. i want to drown out the song - avoidance is flashing like a warning signal, its message coursing through all the neuro pathways. i pick a romantic comedy from my on-line library - happythankyoumoreplease. i have no idea what the film is about - i simply need an escape. if i get a few laughs out of it, bonus.

but then i freeze. pablo schreiber is in this film. shit.

(a little context - up to this point, i've only ever seen schreiber in Law and Order SVU, where he plays a very convincing serial rapist, william lewis. his portrayal of this character has plagued and challenged my anxieties over the years - he embodies and reminds me so vividly of my own rapist - manipulative, controlling, expressionless, a predator.)

there are clearly messages that the universe keeps leaving at my door step, and no matter how many distractions i put up as obstacles, that knock on the door isn't going away. it's schreiber's character in the film, charlie, where i gain a bit of insight:

“Did you play sports when you were a kid? D’you remember ‘walk it off’. No matter what happened right? I mean your eye-ball could be hanging out of its socket, coach would run over, scoop you up; ‘Hey you’re alright kid just walk it off.’ And I’m sure a few of those times I was legitimately hurt, but just having this concept, walk it off, as a way to, I don’t know, heal myself, it worked. I just walked that shit off.”

walk it off. it's as simple as that. it's not about running to escape, but walking it off to heal. i do just that. it feels good to get the legs moving and breathing in the crisp winter air. i have no destination in mind, so i head to the local mom and pop shop to check my lottery numbers. i don't win anything, but i buy another set for the following draw. who knows, maybe with a little thank you, more please, i might win something more.

as i continue on my walk, i sense a lightness - i seize the chance and face the yet undefined thing that is causing me distress. the blurry edges come into focus and hones in on my anxieties. ghomeshi. there's a whole media storm going on right now. i cringe when i read the onslaught of questions posed by defence counsel to the victims. the chatter around the trial is everywhere and it overwhelms me. but ultimately, i hate how defence is painting a picture of "you liked boy, you sexted with boy, you wanted boy" with a timeline detailed and outlined for all to see. i acknowledge defence counsel is doing her job, but i find it hard not to take it personally - with each question, i find myself reflecting back to my own actions or inactions. did i do/say something that could be perceived as consent to cause the outcome of my rape?

i remind myself that this isn't my trial and i'm not on any stand to be judged. the debates, the dialogue, the comments - these are needed to effectuate change, and though it may at times make me uncomfortable and vulnerable, i need not fear it. and if it does, well, i just need to buy a pair pf new runners so that i can walk that shit off.

I want pho.

I've been craving it all day. It's my friend's fault. She posted an article where the best pho restaurants are located in the city and every since then, my appetite just hasn't been satisfied.

But it's late and most of the restaurants have likely shut down for the night, the workers antsy to close and escape the heat of the kitchen. There's a heatwave, with the kind of humidity that squeezes all the energy out of you. That's how I feel, sitting here on my couch in the dark - there's no air conditioner, no fan, no breeze. But I want pho. I look down at my little westie. He's panting, moving between the small area of tiled floor in front of the fireplace to his cool mat - anywhere but the carpeted floor that is retaining heat.

I contemplate going to bed, but I'm so agitated. Between wiping the beads of sweat from between my boobs and trying to calm the pho cravings, I sense the inner frustration growing. Anxiety isn't far behind. Sleep, i should sleep...but the thought of sleep only amplifies my anxiety - flashbacks of my dreams coming back to me. So I focus back on my pho cravings, because you know, that's what emotional eaters do.

I look down at my westie once more and grab my keys. "Shall we go for a car ride?"

He does the adorable westie head tilt in acknowledgement. I head for the stairs and he follows. Outside, he sniffs the air, which is only slightly cooler than inside my house. He settles himself on the concrete stoop, enjoying the feel of the coolness on his underbelly. But he's picked up on my energies and he quietly surveys the parking area, fully alert to strike out at any creature who dares to step out from behind the shadows. I love that he has my back, but tonight, I'm in no mood to stay still - I need to keep moving. I'm fully aware of my own state of alertness and I give a little tug on his leash, trying to out maneuver my anxieties.  "Let's go, this way - car ride!"

The car ride is an excuse - it gets me out of the house and it's a means of distraction from sleep. Bonus points - the car also has air conditioning. I feel my eyes growing bigger and unblinking - I know I need to work fast and ground myself. Going into a manic state while driving is always one of my fears - I don't want to hurt my dog who's with me, nor anyone else. I begin to refocus. Heading to Chinatown, I scope out the restaurants, but with so many of them with similar names, I can't recall the name or the location of the exact restaurant with the best pho. I don't want to be eating a so-so pho - my taste buds are discerning and in my mind, I already know what flavours I want to taste. Plus, I've also gotten comfortable with the air conditioning and have no desire to step out of this piece of heaven.

It's too bad nobody has a drive-thru pho restaurant, I think to myself. It's one of my pet peeves going to those late-night restaurants, walking in and patrons looking at you but not looking at you, trying to guess your back story. I'm guilty, I know I do it too. I'm feeling less optimistic that I'm going to satisfy my pho cravings, but the midnight drive through the city is providing me with ample distractions. The streets are still alive - there's more than a dozen people waiting for the bus, a couple chatting and laughing on a bench, taxis and uber drivers picking up and dropping off patrons, two people on their motorized wheelchairs racing down the sidewalk. What brought them out? Where are they heading? Are they avoiding sleep too?

Now and then, at a red light, my little furry companion pops his head up from the seat to see if it's a street he recognizes or if we're near the dog park. As I press the gas, I holler, "Here we go!" He quietly settles and lulls himself to sleep to the motion of the car.

The gas gauge dips and I run through my mental catalog, trying to remember which gas station is still open past midnight on a long weekend. I'm in a mild state of hyper-vigilance, but I also don't want to push my luck - driving tired is no different than driving drunk. I recall my recent close calls when I almost caused two car accidents in the span of an hour because I was overly tired. I decide to head home, stopping in to fill up on gas and as a compromise, I pick up a burger and poutine at a drive-thru, with the promise to make myself a noodle soup the next day - a faux pho.

I also promise myself to stop avoiding sleep and to face whatever the subconscious keeps bringing out in my dreams. None of it makes sense - the scenarios and visions only make me uncomfortable, lost, and anxious. As I sit in the dark eating my burger and poutine, I try to make sense of my dreams - I'm walking through the sequences as a player within a play. The scenario are relatively the same each night - only the setting, location and players are different. Each night, I'm invited to bed by either strangers or by people I know - always male and each time, I find myself lying next to them. Nothing ever happens beyond lying next to them, but as I lie there I'm filled with anxiety, confusion, insecurity, and suspicious of their motives. I feel vulnerable, but oddly, I don't feel helpless.

The food is keeping my anxiety at bay and I continue to push on through my reflections. During a recent out-of-town work trip, an incident made me question, "when should one step up when a break-up goes bad?" Couples have the right to work things out with other people minding their own business. But where does social responsibility fit in? In particular, when it appears the break-up is escalating towards violence? The commotion I overheard in the room next to me was enough to make me fear for the woman, especially with his outbursts of "Baby, it was an accident!" and "Please baby, I can't go back to jail!" I don't trust this man, I don't appreciate his manipulations or having to endure listening to their outbursts.

That was a week ago. As I sip my cola, I wonder if she has managed to rid herself of that man. I relive the memories with various "what-if" scenarios floating by. I want to regress within myself, but I know the truth won't leave me alone until I figure things out for myself. I open myself to curiosity and begin to question the various interpretation and it dawns on me - I have invited the couple's dysfunctional relationship and energies within me. My heart is sympathetic and compassionate for the other woman, but their relationship is not my problem and I can't make choices for her or allow myself to expend my anxieties for her. I make a conscious decision to disengage. I make a mental note to continue to follow this feeling of agitation. It's not the most comfortable state to be in, but I sense there is more to be uncovered - certainly as it relates to intimacy, sex, relationships, trust and living life sans fear.

Before tackling this blog, I procrastinated by checking my various social media accounts, and I fell upon my friend Amber Lee's most recent blog post. She's has this incredible passion for life and I love how she explores, discovers and views the world around her. I ended up re-reading her post The 52 Weeks, which is about her quest to write weekly and so far, true to her word/post, she has posted something each week without fail. I love how her Project Manager self comes out and was really drawn to two of her objectives:

• To see what happens. Sometimes when you take an action, something happens. I’m curious to know what will happen. Maybe nothing. Maybe no one will read this and I am only writing for myself, but that’s okay.
• To challenge myself.  This will help me structure and focus my brain, and to sharpen my skills.

Her commitment to herself inspired me to reflect on my own sense of commitment and what it means to me.

I have tried a number of times to reset my life, launch into self-improvements and have had a stream of good intentions - I'm trying to lose weight. I'm trying to bring my lunch to work. I'm trying to get 7 hours of sleep. I'm trying to be more disciplined. I'm trying to go out to meet new people. I'm trying to keep up with my writing. I'm trying...I'm trying...I'm trying. I have a string of statements that I've made to myself over the years. But I found that I was equally good at self-sabotaging my attempts, coming up with excuses to not continue. My backdoor has been everything from my fears, shame, guilt, unwillingness to be vulnerable, a need to stay in control, my own lack of belief in myself and my inability to value my own worth, dreams and wishes.

1. There's a difference between "to try" and "to commit" 

Question: do you see commitment as a pledge, promise, obligation, as an act of engaging yourself, or all of the above? Image credit: David Jelinek

To try is to make an effort, an attempt, to test things, a trial. In trying, there is no accountability to oneself, and for me, this was my loop hole to any self-sabotaging efforts - there was no requirement to continue if things didn't work out. However, David Jelinik's attitude about the outcome of committing to something is rather blasé: "Commit and who cares what the results are...it's awesome enough that you started." Having the motivation to start something is great, but what David's commitment scale fails to point out is the higher the level of commitment, the deeper one has to dig within one self to make and sustain the effort to see it through to the end. If I'm going to put in all that effort into making something happen, I am going to care...a lot, because if I didn't, I'd be the first to walk through that backdoor.


2. Rephrase your intentions into action statements.

A friend of mine shared what she learned at a retreat about living in the present and she said sometimes, all it takes is rephrasing an intention in the present tense. I struggled with this concept for a while with my work-life balance and so I told her "I'm trying to leave work by 5 pm each day". But my commitment to my work had a greater hold on me and I continued to struggle to let go of my workaholic self. So one day, she emailed me this phrase:

"I am productive and my work day ends at 5 pm."

3. Follow through, and if you don't succeed, repeat.

"You cannot make a real commitment unless you accept that it's a choice that you keep making again and again and again."

For me to make a commitment to myself, I need to take a good, hard look not only at what I value about me, but whether I value me as a person...although I value myself generally and think of myself as someone with a positive sense of self, when it comes to romantic relationships all bets are off...when it comes to work of friends, I value me for me. When it comes to romantic relationships, my self-worth flies out the window.
As a person, I channel my positive energy towards my work, friends and family.

So why can't I commit to myself? Do I think I'm more trouble than I'm worth?  I fully admit that I am my own worst enemy. I have a habit of criticizing instead of praising myself; seeing the mistakes instead of the successes. 

We were raised to believe that we should give to everyone else -- take care of everyone else -- before we take care of ourselves...at the end of the day, we have nothing left to give...but if you can't commit to give to you, to take care of you, then pretty soon you have nothing left but a broken shell of who you used to be.

Up until recently, I went for the alternative to making a commitment to myself. I made commitments to everyone else...but to commit to me? No, thank you. if you commit to yourself and rely on yourself, when who are you going to blame when things go wrong...of course, I blamed myself anyway - for my own problems and everyone else's as well. 

• Making my home a home - after 6 years of living in my condo, I believe it's time I acknowledge that I am living here and not planning on moving anytime soon.  And if I do, who cares! I want to claim this space as my own - and as I browse and research different styles and designs, I'm learning to listen and trust my gut what I want and how I want to transform this space, as well as discovering my own tastes and personality.  I've started by declutttering, buying a few furniture pieces but more importantly, I've put a nail in my wall to hang a picture - this to me has always been a representation and test of what commitment means to me.
• Shedding the pounds - I'm nearing the big 4-0, and so I've made a commitment to lose 40 lbs before my milestone birthday. I've reached 25% of my goal so far and it's been an amazing feeling to have that goal and also having the dogged determination to want it as well. I've faltered and fallen off the wagon, but I'm not going to let myself stand there as the wagon drives off into the far off distance. I'm totally capable of catching up to that wagon and jumping back on. 
• Connecting with my self - This is a category that I've grouped a number of hobbies and interests but with the main thread of connecting to my self and continuing to peel back the dead layers so that there is more room to breathe and grow - yoga as a way to connect me to my body and surrounding energies, reading to connect with my mind, writing/painting/music to connect with my creativity, wearing dresses to connect with myself as a woman, to go out at least once a week and do something without my dog so that I'm meeting new people, and so on. I'm doing this to honour a friend who has struggled but lives with such grace and had I been in her place, I don't know if I could have coped. And so for her, I use these daily practices to understand and perfect the art of imperfection, to be comfortable with my vulnerability, and to continue healing.   

"A closet is a hard conversation, and although our topics may vary tremendously, the experience of being in and coming out of a closet is universal..…you may feel so very alone, but you are not...no matter what your walls are made of...there are others peering through the keyholes of their closets looking for the next brave soul to bust a door open, so be that person and show the world that we are bigger than our closets and that a closet is no place for a person to truly live."

I like to write. I don't know if I love it. Perhaps it's more that I need to write. It's a means to sort out my thoughts and feelings - deriving perspective and clarity out of the chaos that I concoct around me. Writing started as a 3rd grade assignment, and I would write about anything and everything - I took to paper like a fish to water. Thoughts, words, expressions, descriptions, plots, character, observations - I would fill out the pages of my notebooks.