Preparing for a new year

There are many, many things that I can look back on in this past year and curse about.  There are many more things that I can celebrate.  Neither of those conditions impacts the fact that I’ll be goddamned if I’m going to let next year be anything like this year.

You know I’m not much for resolutions.  Why put off until tomorrow what you can do today?  Or, more to the point, stop giving any excuse at all for not accomplishing what you want to do.

Sometime in the past few months, I realized that my focus and drive have kind of fizzled away.  I’ve been put in a state of handling crisis for so long that when I lay down at night and try to visualize the life that I want, more often than I like I come up blank.  A lot of it has to do with Daniel’s epilepsy and never knowing how bad it’s going to be, or when it’s going to change, or if it’s going to change.  What kinds of foods will we be able to buy?  What kinds of environments can we safely visit?  I had plans to do some traveling after the first of the year, but I realized that I can’t afford to do that, not when he’s like this.  Yes, Joe is wonderful to keep him on weekends, but there’s always that “what if” in the back of my head.

That’s the part that sucks about Lennox-Gastaut Syndrome.  Just when you think you’ve got it, just when it’s under control and handled and you’ve gotten used to it – it changes.

And so many of my nefarious plans must be put to the back-burner or put to the side, and I know there’s a good reason for that.  There’s a positive outcome to it, and I know there’s a reward at the end, but I’m not one that is easily given to waiting.  (That is, after all, why I knit.)

This past year, I dabbled in a relationship that showed me that I still have a problem telling the difference between what a person is and what a person could be.  Apparently, some people want to be greater than they are, want to be stronger, and that puts them in a state to be fearful and abusive.  It’s not their malicious intent to be so, but that’s what ends up happening, and I am not obligated to indulge that.  Ah, well… there were good times, at least.

I also dabbled in college, and fell into a scam.  (Well, I said that twice… “college” and “scam” are becoming the same thing.)  The error was not in wanting or pursuing the degree, the error was in believing that they really do want single, home-bound moms to get a great education, and that they’ll do anything in their power to make that happen.  Well, that part is true, except that the “anything” in question was to neglect to mention that online students that are not directly enrolled in real-world campuses are not eligible for academic scholarships.  And you know how allergic I am to debt…

But, now I’ve had a taste of it, and it won’t leave my mouth.  The thing is, that puts me back where I have been all along, asking myself what I want to study?  I’ll incur some debt – that can’t be avoided – so it had better be worth it.  Business administration?  Project management?  Physics?  Medicine?  (Oh god, not medicine…)  Marketing?  (Please no…)  It’s a very tough decision, but I need to do something soon.  (Partially, this is because I have no desire to start making student loan payments.  I need to enroll in a proper college very soon.)

I moved twice this year.  I haven’t done that in a really, really long time – not since 2001.  Of course, 2000 was worse… In 2000, I lived in… *counts on fingers*… seven different places?  Yeah… 2001 was only… three, I think.  Yeah.  I’m sure I’m not first to say, “FUCK THAT,” but I am, in this moment, the most emphatic.  I’m sick of moving.  I want to outlive my landlord here, seriously.  (Well, that’s how I feel right now.  It will ultimately depend on how he feels about having a TARDIS in the backyard.)

Oh, and THIS was the year that I finally came to terms with my own autism.  That was a fun time.  It’s a lot of back-and-forth for me, wondering how much I’m supposed to divulge, whether or not I’m supposed to say anything to my employer, how much I’m supposed to say, whether or not to explain the intricacies… does it matter, really?  In the end, I’m the only one that can do anything to control it (although fine-tuning the communication would help).  I still don’t know, really, what it means for me in the long run.  I don’t want to be labeled as something “undesirable” (especially not in this economy), but I don’t know if it’s going to get worse with age.  It seems to for some people, but there haven’t been any studies on that that I’ve been able to find.

There were amazing moments… Velic finding peace and going gracefully to the Other Side… Getting in touch with my oldest daughter… meeting Mike and finding a very comfortable, no-pressure relationship… Joe premiering his first movie… moving closer to family… there were so many fantastic moments, it’s hard to quantify them all.

But, that’s not really what this musing is about.  What I really want to have in my hand, in my head, is a solid image of what I want the future to look like.  You cannot create that which you cannot conceive, and all the stress and worry has greatly diminished my capacity to see any future beyond the next few days, it seems.  Perhaps the exercise over these next twelve days will bring some clarity.

Gods know I need it.

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