Rolling in the deep
The scars of your love remind me of us. They keep me thinking that we almost had it all. The scars of your love, they leave me breathless. I can’t help thinking we could have had it all. -Adele
It’s hard to live without regret. And it takes a long time, if ever, to erase the scars left behind from a wounded heart.
11th Dimension
Don’t be sad, won’t ever happen like this anymore. So when’s it coming, this last new great movement that I can join? It won’t end here. Your faith has got to be greater than your fear. Forgive them, even if they are not sorry. -Julian Casablancas
It’s been nearly a year since my last blog post.
A lot has changed. The last 11 or so months have been a period of real transition in my life, and that statement only becomes more apparent as I look through my old entries. Looking back, I can’t believe it was already 2 years ago that I lived in London. It was such a learning experience for me. And the lessons from that trip are just now finally catching up with me, I think.
In true “me” fashion I’ve decided to reinvent this blog. A new chapter of my life deserves a new name. But not without tribute to what’s gotten me this far, of course. Once again, I’ve changed the title… what was once “My Kaleidoscope Eyes” is now “Darling Kaleidoscope.” I still see things in a flurry of colors and shapes. But I’m going to attempt to take better ownership of it this time around.
Before I close the door on the last year, I think it’s important to chronicle the memories before they slip away for good.
A year ago I was involved in what was to become a great, creative, yet short-lived partnership. The Black Sphere Project was a terrific outlet to battle my idleness. I think now that it was just the rebound I needed to get over the reverse culture shock of being back home. It kept me busy. It put my organizational and planning skills to good use. And it was the perfect excuse to explore Los Angeles, immerse myself in art and help some friends make music.
By the end of July 2010, we had put on our very first show. It was a real success, down to the decorations and home-built stage. We were so high from the experience that we began thinking bigger. We spent the following two months planning, building a website, marketing our name and researching the things we needed to make an even better event.
By the end of September 2010, we had successfully put on our second show. We got another band to play, followed a strict self-imposed business code to show our professionalism and actually made a little bit of money. Our friends and family were thoroughly impressed… it turned out to be much more than they had expected (so they told us). The partnership seemed to be unstoppable.
Little did I know that things would turn sour so quickly. Unfortunately, we started to slow down after the Summer Is Dead show. We lost momentum and in some cases, motivation, to continue. Just a month before the second show, a very important personal relationship fell apart. And that started eating away at everything.
My dad once told me, “you shouldn’t be so affected by friends because they’ll never stick around.”
“It might take 20 years for them to leave or let you down, but they will eventually,” he would say.
That was about 8 years ago when I was having minor friend troubles. I didn’t believe him at the time. I thought he was just being overly-cynical. But I’m starting to think there may be some truth to that statement after all.
Without getting into all the gory details, let’s just say I learned the hard way that sometimes love just isn’t enough. When the bad outweighs the good in any relationship, whether just friends or lovers, that’s when it starts to get toxic. You can’t sleep, you can’t eat, you can’t live a normal daily life without feeling like complete shit. You’re worn out, irritable, and you take things out on the people who are trying to help you.
Between August and December 2010, I struggled to understand the core of what went wrong between my friend and I. Was it my fault? Why can’t I stop being so angry? Is there any hope at all for reconciliation?
I tried to make amends at the end of the year, hoping we could start 2011 with a civil, honest and mutual decision to part ways. But it backfired. In January I found myself hurt to the very core. Except this time, not without some additional casualties. Someone who was once a dear friend became more of a nuisance and enemy. And another friend, my partner in crime for the last few years, became a complete stranger to me. The Black Sphere Project was likely to be gone for good. And these two broken friendships affected all the rest.
Essentially from January up to the present, I’ve been trying to get over all of this. It’s not easy. And if anything, it’s been a very lonely ride. I try to put on the face every day and be grateful for what I have after everything. But who am I kidding? I can’t help but still feel saddened when I think about it.
In the last six months I’ve spent a lot of time distracting myself with entertainment and responsibilities. I work A LOT. (I forgot to mention that in October 2010, I went back to being a journalist.) I started spending more time with my family. I watched far too much television. I befriended an entirely new group of people (many of whom are really wonderful but I can’t seem to let myself get too close). I’m distant… even to myself at times.
I’ve done a little bit of travelling too. So far this year I’ve been to Dallas to visit a friend from grad school, Palm Springs for Coachella, Las Vegas twice (once to the see the LOVE show for the second time). And in less than a month, I’ll be going to Orlando for vacation with my family. Perhaps another out-of-town adventure will happen in the fall, but nothing’s set in stone yet.
Still, probably the best/worst distraction from all my emotional/relationship troubles is the fact that in March I was officially diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis. The stiffness in my hands began in late December. At first I chalked it up to stress. I thought I was clenching my fists in my sleep or something, since relationship woes tend to have a serious effect on my stress levels.
Then in mid-January, I got the flu. And along with the flu came the body aches. But when the flu went away a week later and the aches didn’t… I knew something was wrong. I was so stiff I couldn’t move. And the pain in my hands, arms and neck were excruciating. I went to Urgent Care almost immediately and the doctor speculated that I may have RA, but I would have to see a rheumatologist to be sure.
I survived for about 2 months off of 6 Advils a day, just to keep the pain in check. I went to work and wrote my stories with fingers that could barely bend. It took me 10 minutes to walk the few steps from my car to my office because my knees couldn’t handle brisk walking. I had to wait for my insurance company to approve a referral from my doctor to see the specialist.
It wasn’t until March, after lots of blood tests and x-rays that I got the official diagnosis – RA at age 29. And there is no cure. But here are some steroids and this medication that is commonly used in the chemotherapy cocktail. The goal is remission.
That brings us to today. I won’t pretend that I’ve completely forgotten about my personal problems. On the contrary, they’re still having a very profound effect on the way I go about my day-to-day life. I feel withdrawn and indifferent most of the time.
And while my RA was seemingly under control during the month of April, my symptoms have come back full-force in the last 45 days. Now I hear pops when I straighten my arm too quickly. My joints are completely swollen every morning and I feel like a 90-year-old grandmother. It takes hours after I’ve taken my medication for my joints to loosen up. Because I’m so slow, it takes me an hour and a half to get ready for work, instead of the 45 minutes it used to take me. Now my neck, shoulders, arms, wrists, fingers, hips, back, legs, knees, ankles and toes hurt. I haven’t had a headache in months, probably because of the prednisone, but I’d still rather take the headache over the crippling condition RA flare-ups put me in. I can’t play guitar anymore. I haven’t even touched the piano. And decorating cupcakes… forget it.
I wasn’t expecting this to turn into such a depressing entry, but it seems like this is all stuff I just had to get out. I’m done with this shit. I’m tired of feeling so terrible and I don’t want to go on another day feeling sorry for myself. If friendships have to end, then so be it. And if I have to live the rest of my life battling joint pains and depression, then I’m going to die fighting it. I can’t promise I won’t revert at times, but I’m hoping I can convince myself to do some self-therapy. This is where it begins.
