Farewell to 2016!

What a year! What a freaking year! 2016 will go down as one of the most memorable years for many people, myself included.

Surprisingly the one event I thought would wreck me was turning 40, and it passed okay. Up to the day I was pretty bummed out but once it was here, and I quietly accepted it, it wasn't so bad. In fact I'm happy with 40. I will admit that it still hits me that I'm this old but I realized that I'm so much better now than 39. Each year I think I get better. I feel more seasoned and I unlock more secrets to life that keep me sane.

I'm also at peace with myself. I took a look back over the years, and while there are lots of regrets, I've accepted that it is time to move forward and learn from those mistakes. They still pop up in my mind but I'm okay with them. I can't change them but I can let them rest.

This year has been in turmoil and I've never seen a country so divided. Yes, there are more episodes in history that are far, far greater but this is the first time in my life. I witnessed many historical events from the safety of my couch. I am witnessing a country so divided that we can not even have calm, rational debates. I am witnessing more acts of violence, racism, sexism and division and I don't know how they started or how to overcome them. I am seeing a lot of ugliness over an important election and feel so polarized that it is hard to see things from a different perspective.

What I am frightened most over is a loss of respect. People being hateful and attacking others simply based on political party affiliations. Most elections in the past, at least for me, was a vigorous debate and then acceptance with whomever lost and the knowledge that the couldn't fuck it up too badly. That changed this year when I realized a candidate embraced almost every single trait and running platform that I could not even be reasonable in my dislike over. A man so stupid that he has already broken most of his promises to his own followers and is choosing his advisers that are unfit for the job...may be unfit for any job on the planet that involves the livelihood of anyone.

This was not a good health year. In January I was diagnosed with IIH (Idiopathic Intercranial Hypertension), or also known as Pseudotumor Cerebri. I thought it was typical migraine and vision disturbances. In fact the only way I learned this was through a routine eye examination late December 2015. They thought they saw a mass on my optic nerve. I found out that I had lost a portion of my vision. It was scary and since then I have battled numerous neurologists and optic nerve specialists. It wore me down and I wanted to give up at times. Now I have a new neurologist and neurosurgeon who believe in treatment. Next Wednesday, December 28th I'll have surgery. The neurosurgeon will be putting in a shunt through my skull into my brain, threading it down through to my ear where a device to monitor pressure will be installed (makes it sound like a car stereo ha!) and then tunneling down into my abdominal cavity. I realized yesterday that I didn't ask what the aftereffects will be and how my recovery time will be affected. Guess I need to do that.

In January (the 10th) I'll be under the knife once again but on the opposite end. :) It's a much needed surgery and one that can happen. So far it is slated to be a simple surgery but it might wind up being a little more in-depth.

I reached out to old friends because I was worried about them. Will we continue talking and maybe eventually become comfortable with each other and build a new friendship...I don't know. But I had to reach out. There was something missing in my life and I had to try. Will it happen? I don't know. Will it be easy? Probably not. Will it take time? Absolutely. And if it is not able to happen then there will not be any hard feelings. I love this person enough to respect her decision but also know that we are two individuals that have a stubborn streak a mile long and I know, for myself at least, that I'm a baby out with the bathtub kind of person. But I miss this person and I miss her insights and her support. I miss being a part of something dynamic but also know that venturing forward, if it happens, will be something entirely different. To quote a song: Que Sera Sera

I reached out to another friend and started talking with her again. I had stopped talking with her after a big bruhaha involving parents. And I missed her crazy ass. She is definitely interesting and I wanted to be a part of that craziness again. She is another past friend that pushed me to finishing things and supported me.

What a year! It's been a tough one but I've never wanted to see a year in the rear view mirror quite as badly as this one. Let's hope that 2017 is far better!

Oh...and my mom remarried. Weird being 40 and gaining a step-father. I see how kids have it when there is a new love involving a parent.

So let's toast and ring in the next 365 days. Hopefully it cannot be worse!

Later Kats and Kittens

This Little Thing Called Life

It has been a while my Kats and Kittens. I've been working on my other blog Every Day Beauty - Be the Beauty in the Mirror. If you haven't seen it, check it out.

This is the type of article that is not for that one though.

A year or so ago I reached out to a former friend to find resolution to ending our friendship abruptly. I had walked away almost 6 months or so ago prior, putting myself first. Then after a lot of  internal strife, I reached out to explain why and to let myself get closure.

The conversation was civil, I had no intention of delving back in, and we parted ways. It was cathartic.

When it comes to ending things, I tend to ghost. I check out before thoughtfully reaching out and reviewing my choice logically and without emotion factoring in and let me tell you, that is the hardest thing anyone can do. We, as a species, rely on emotion to color a situation. Some use it wisely and some not so wisely.

The ending of that friendship was devastating to me in ways I did not see at the time but have come home since. I can't count the number of times I have had something arise and my first instinct was to talk to her. But I knew that would never happen. It still surprised in each time it did.

I sometimes wonder how she is and I realize where we both took wrong turns. I think about our plans to retire on the beach together with all of our pets. When I see anything Steel Magnolia, I'm reminded that I had always planned on being Weezer.

This sounds incredibly maudlin, doesn't it? It shouldn't be because this is fond remembrance. We had many, many talks that lasted hours. We were always just a text away. And then distance, ego and sheer hardheadedness popped up.

So why, now, am I posting this?

To tell you how a decision that seemed so "right" at that time is not always the "right" thing to do. Sometimes emotion needs to be addressed and compromises given. That comes from the Leadership course I have been taking through University of Michigan. It has opened up my eyes to many things a leader should do.

A leader has to be impartial but also vested. A leader needs to know her reservation price and the BATNA (Best Alternative to a Negotiated Agreement) and what should be revealed and what should not. You have to know how to bring people together to achieve greatness both within the group and within yourself.

Just plug in friendship to all of the "leader" pronouns.

In the end, and what I hope you take from this is that nothing is as it seems. You have to be patient, logical but also allow yourself room for negotiation. Life is all about negotiation. A year ago I knew that I could never resume, and renew, that friendship. Today I know that while it couldn't be renewed, it could be started over. There doesn't always need to be an ending. Maybe it was a pause. Maybe the  issue was stuck and it needed to be turned off and then back on. I don't know. All I do know is that there will always be times I want to tell her something and then pause and frown and then go on.

We would have had an anniversary this year. 12 years of almost daily communication. Happy Cingular Day to you Kat, and I'm always just a phone, text or email away.

This is 40?

This is 40?

Technically I have 1 day to go but who’s counting right? Heaven knows I’m not. It’s not like it isn’t like it is 17 hours and 54 minutes. 40 is just a number. It’s just a number.

Why do people say that? 18 was just a number but we celebrate it. It is the entrance into adulthood. You get to vote. You become responsible for your own actions legally. 21 is just a number but it’s the number on your license that allows you into bars and allows you to purchase those taste libations that make the end of the day so much sweeter.

When you look down at the scale and see your weight, those are just numbers, right? Yet society places a huge (ignore the pun) emphasis on that number. In fact your worth as a person can blindly be judged by that number.

How many sexual partners you’ve acquired over the years is just a number. The number of marriages/divorces and relationships are all just numbers. The numbers of offspring are all just numbers but society keeps track. And all of them are held accountable and we are measured against them. Yet when a woman bemoans turning 40, everyone says, “It’s just a number.”

I had to handwrite this blog out first yesterday because I have to limit the time I stare at a computer screen. My eyesight sucks and it hurts. IIH is definitely taking a toll on my body. It’s rare and as such you have to be your own advocate and educate doctors who may not know about the disorder. I absolutely hate that it has slowed me down. It’s a pain in the ass. Not literally, because the pain is behind the eyes and in my head. Ha! I kill me.

Life throws a lot of curve ball and at times it seems as if I’ve left my bat in the dugout. I get tagged over and over. I’m not going to lie. In recent months I’ve gotten low. Really low. Probably lower than I have ever been and that old familiar demon has reared its ugly head and drags me under. Each day it is a struggle to break the surface and paste on a smile. I find myself cocooned in solitude and I have no one but that insidious being. The people I want and need the most are thousands of miles away and I reach for the phone but stop because I feel like a burden.

That’s how depression drowns people. The anxiety side makes you fearful of reaching out. You worry about EVERYTHING. No matter how inconsequential it might seem to someone else, anxiety blows it up. The absolute worst thing to say someone with anxiety would be, “Calm down, it is no big deal.” It is always a big deal. Every hushed conversation is about us and it is always negative. Every shut door is about us and it is about how bad we are at something.

But c’est la vie. That is life. Que sera sera.  At the end of the day we all have our own demons. We are all fighting our own battles. All we have is our wits and each other to cling to and support.

So as that clock ticks closer to 40 I’ll have moments of despair where I evaluate my position on the field of life. I’ll take stock of everything I’ve been through and where the next 50 years will take me and at the end of the day I can say this with all certainty. I love myself much more now than I did at 18, 21 or even 30.

I like who I am. I have a lot of scars, inside and outside, that tell stories of what I have been through. All the lessons I’ve learned over 40 years reside within me and some have actually stuck and I have remembered them so as to not repeat them. I’m kind. I’m funny. I’m very empathetic. I’m smart and witty. I’m beautiful inside and out.

Yeah that number on the scale needs to creep downward alongside with the number on the tape measure around my waist but it, like my mind, is always a work in progress.

The number of friends in my life may be less this year but the ones in it are the ones that I know are meant to be. They are the ones that have been there through thick and thin and are worth their weight in gold. So welcome 40. Let’s see what adventures await us!