Even though Mercury ended its retrograde period on Sunday, I have found myself consumed all week with thoughts about Tarah-In-the-Past. Maybe it’s because cancer has me focusing more these days on my own mortality. Maybe it’s because there are certain things i’m supposed to have learned by this point in my life, but i haven’t gotten there yet. Maybe it’s because Mercury-in-retrograde continues to live up to its reputation of reintroducing people from my past and mind-fucking me in small but continual doses. Whatever it is, my cognitive state is in overdrive. I haven’t been sleeping this week … which i know is “normal” for me, but it’s a red flag when it takes me three sleeping pills and 4.5 hours to fall asleep, and then even that sleep-deprived exhaustion the next day doesn’t allow me to seek refuge in a nap after i get home from work.
Kyana, remember when you and i used to plan date nights on Fridays, but i’d always end up passed out by 7:00 pm after putting in a 65-hour workweek with Rose Linda Elementary School and Teach for America?
Nikita, remember when you and Kyana used to lie in bed on each side of me and literally count backwards from ten to one, just to emphasize how quickly i could fall asleep?
I think i would chop off one of my own fingers just to get those days back again. Sorry, Jenna. It’s probably still too soon.
Mercury-in-retrograde, you were a lot to handle this time around. I’m thinking about all that happened during this most recent three-week cycle of yours. You started on April 28, which just so happened to be the day i was walked off the facility and temporarily banished from work. You kicked off your first weekend by reminding me that i don’t have the willpower or ethics i delusionally believe that i have. You showed me the very next weekend that i will break my own promises to myself even eight years after i make them. You proved that i can’t always hold in my tears until after i get home and close my door from the rest of the world. You set me up on dates with two different seemingly adorable guys, knowing very well how much i prefer to avoid venturing outside of LesbiLand. You emphasized that the few womyn who miraculously get me to romantically love them will *always* reserve very unique places in my heart, no matter how many years, circumstances, miles, and other womyn pass us both by. You influenced an old coworker, two Dinah Shore acquaintances, a high school theater buddy, five former students from three different schools, a roommate from a decade ago, an ex-girlfriend, an associate i met once from the Cancer Support Community of AZ, and two Internet-based almost-friends all to reach out to me from out of the blue. You provoked recurring dreams of even more people from my past whom i stubbornly refuse to reach out to myself. You jump-started my radiation treatment. You took me away from work and then brought me back right in the middle of a term/block/marking period. You brought one of my roommates gracelessly to her knees right in front of me. You threatened my mom with the same cancer i have and then stopped communicating with us about whether or not she will follow in my footsteps. You did all this … and then kept me restlessly awake soooo many nights thinking about those two particular exes who kind of broke me beyond repair, before permanently walking out of my life without any desire (theirs *or* mine) to return.
Today, Dr. Patel advised me to read The Power Of Now. Apparently, she thinks that my insomnia will be cured with a self-help book on spiritual enlightenment. Normally, i would have laughed in the face of anyone who made such a suggestion to me – the agnostic, anti-self-help book psych major – but honestly, i was too fucking exhausted to do anything other than smile and nod.