I love the Cowboy Junkies, I’ve never seen them live but I had tix to go see them last night at a swanky new, small venue nightclub. I don’t go to see live music often, there’s rarely someone I want to see, some place I want to go, but I really wanted to go to this. Go out, change of scenery, close my eyes and listen to some good music. A friend bought us tickets for my 48th birthday which came and went quickly back in November mid-diagnoses. We took a leap of faith that I’d be able to go.
I psyched myself up for days, but when it came down to it, I’d had a day full of dizzy spells, nausea, sniffling and coughing and I know my white blood counts are at their lowest point in the cycle and ultimately, I’d be just stupid to go. Wasn’t even sure I could walk from car to door. So I called my friend and her husband got to go instead. Luckily, I like him a ton, so I’m glad he got to go.
And then I just put my head on the kitchen table and sobbed. I’m getting teary just thinking about it. I think my weeps come with the dip in white cells, but I don’t know. I just felt so, so sad, sad, sad. I feel like I’ve lost my life in such a short time. I rarely leave the house and I’m getting sick of this house and everything in it. The house I fought so hard to get in the divorce that never happened, so still actually isn’t mine even though I’m bearning all the mortgage and maintenance costs and responsibilities.
I am disconnected from friends, from school, from the real live moving world out there, from my business and increasingly from myself. I don’t laugh. When I hear people laughing I’m amazed at the freedom of it. How unclenched you need to be to laugh easily and truly. I can’t remember laughting and now I’m wondering if I’m someone who never lets go and laughs.
I have tickets to see David Sedaris in April, so I guess I'll shoot for that, and if anyone can make me laugh it would be him.