.: Tabula Rasa :.

A clean slate. Just what this diary needed.

It's been exactly a year since I got sick. I suppose I could phrase that differently -- I could say that I became ill, or that my health took a turn for the worse, or that I developed medical problems. But none of those expressions feel right. I just plain got sick.

I'm better now, though I have to pay attention to my health in ways that weren't required before May 2004. I'm certainly not well, and probably never will be, but that's fine. I've coped with it. I didn't want to become partially disabled, but here it is, and I've made it work. If I had to learn a few unpleasant truths about some of my relationships when I got sick, well...it's better to know where you stand than to hang on to illusions.

And so, here I am, another May. It's been three months since my dad got out of the hospital, three days since Kimberly got out.

I'm glad I'm in my thirties. Maturity is a beautiful thing, and I possess it in spades, compared to where I was two years ago. I think the thirties are a good time to be a woman. You feel as if you've come into the fullness of your true self in a way that you couldn't when you were younger. You learn what's worth it and what's not.

Every hill isn't the one you want to die for. Every battle isn't worth fighting. Everyone doesn't deserve the love you try to give them.

If it's not real love, whether it's family, a romance, or a friend, it's not worth it.

In the last year, I've enjoyed awakenings on almost every level. Like I told Kirstine the other day, dispite my difficulties, I'm still engaged in life.

I plan to stay that way.


.: 8:51 P.M. :.
.: Thursday, May. 26, 2005 :.


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