March 2005 blogposts

I Will Remember You: Elizabeth Kamyszek, August 20, 1912—October 18, 2004

I've found the original handwritten notes about my beloved grandmother Elizabeth's final illness and death. The posts about her got taken down with the old blog, but I feel strongly that they belong here in the new blog. There isn't a day that goes by where I don't think about her; she was the one true source of unconditional love in my childhood, and we always had a special bond between us. I still carry her rosary around in my pocket, in the little beige bag she crocheted for it. It's become a talisman of sorts, a memento.

I'm still crying now as I type this; maybe someday the pain will dull.

Resurrecting my art

I used to draw all the time as a child, but somewhere along the way I dropped it. I guess my practical streak told me that I was never going to be able to make a living as an artist, and I would be living in someone's attic subsisting on peanut butter until I was "discovered".

And so I let it languish.

This week I bought a graphics tablet for my PC, and I am slowly becoming comfortable with it. I use the excellent freeware software ArtRage, plus an old copy of PhotoShop 5.5, in my work. 

Sony's Response to the iPod

This afternoon, while out at the mall with my best friend John, I just caved in and bought the Sony Network Walkman NW-HD1 with 20GB storage space. It's the size of a pack of playing cards, and (according to the box) it handles not only Sony's ATRAC3/ATRAC3Plus, but also MP3, WAV, and WMA.

All the gory details are here.

Will report back on my experiences :-) I'm so excited...

a delicate balance, disrupted

Today I went to see my doctor, and he's given me sick-leave from work until March 31st. I feel horribly guilty; my workplace is understaffed as it is, and now they will be missing a third person. I went in today for an hour just to finish off a couple of must-do projects, and to hand in the doctor's note to my suoervisor.

My doctor's had to adjust my antidepressant and sleeping medications because one of them has just completely stopped working for me. And that adjustment was enough to throw me off my footing. Imagine going from 5-6 hours of sleep a night, to 12 full hours of sleep and STILL having trouble waking up. I've spent most of the last two days in bed or on the sofa, not even wanting to leave the apartment.

Now my doctor and I have to get things back into balance again, find out by trial and error what the best dosage of the newly added drug should be, and whether the other drugs I take need to be adjusted up or down as a consequence. God, dear God, I hate living like this.

Ironically, just before my doctor's appointment I ran into an acquaintance (we used to go the same church), who is HIV+ and is having his own battles with drugs. He asked how I was. I said "OK" and I asked how he was, and he said "OK".

We both smiled; each of knew that "OK" means "I'm just barely hanging on today". As we parted I said: "I'm going to be okay. It just doesn't FEEL that way right now."

It's time to pull out the phone and start calling friends, allies, and counselors. Again. Again. Once again. 

Zero Self-Esteem

Just got back from coffee with one of my best friends, Stephen (he and I are among the founding members of our chorus. The Rainbow Harmony Project...music samples here and here). I always find that, no matter how much I have to use a crowbar to get myself out of the house, I always feel better after a chat with a good friend (I'm an extravert, and I therefore get energy by being around other people).

It's ironic that I'm such a hermit lately, but my self-esteem is frankly zero. I'm not going to be able to jump back into the social scene without some work in that area; it's like I'm keeping myself away of the fray because I'm afraid I'll just be further hurt, hurt beyond what I can bear. I'm living through a period of long, wide, and deep grief, and this time I've physically withdrawn, to an extrordinary degree, from real life. I paper it over well, in real-life situations which I cannot (or will not) escape. But it's still there, deep down, and this fall, winter, and spring, ever present.

The End of the Innocence

I'm fighting a cold, but it's a losing battle today. And of course, this is the day that I miss the family gathering for Easter dinner. Damn.

Been thinking some more about my life, and I realize that over the past decade (1996-2005) almost everything in my life has changed. Much has been gained, but much has also been lost. And one of the things I find myself suddenly aware of, and grieving over, is something other people may find strange: I've lost my innocence.

Most people hold onto that sense of innocence only until age 6, pr age 16, sometime early in life it is lost. People would often remark upon meeting me and talking with me (at least, pre-1996) that I seemed to be so innocent, so untouched by "the world", "too good to be true". Well, of course one appears innocent if he's suppressed major chunks of his life (such as his sexual orientation and his anger) in a failing effort to "fit in". Now I stick out like a pink flamingo in a gaggle of geese.

Spent most of the day on the sofa with a box of antihistamines and a box of tissues; other than that, nothing except for a bit of tinkering with the playlist on my new radio.blog, trying for a good mix with smooth flow between songs.