The latest ponderings...

This weekend I flew down to Charlotte, North Carolina for the wedding of a dear high school friend of mine. It was a big event, but absolutely beautiful and they did a wonderful job. It was a big Southern to-do, so I didn't know a lot of people, but it actually was really nice to have just a small Groton contingent. As most of us had seen each other fairly recently from our reunion it was good to have real conversations and not just the faux catch-up of "So what are you up to? How's work? Give me the 10 minute recap of of the past few years of your life." Everyone looked beautiful, everyone seems to be doing well, and the whole weekend was exactly what it should be: a celebration of friends and family whether it was through old school ties or wedding bands.

I did my best of keeping up with the group, but that's not to say my anti-social tendencies didn't rear up a bit. Energy wise I was great, I'm doing really well with this maintenance phase and I'm essentially back to 'normal' - I'm able to handle a decent amount of activity, I don't need to worry about resting up as much or squeezing in naps. I guess what got me over the weekend wasn't tiredness but sobriety. Is that awful?!? I feel as if that's a terrible thing to admit, but I can't help it. It's not that I need it, or alcohol is necessary for fun, or anything like that. I'm not trying to condone or condemn either side (that's what parents are for). But I'll admit it was hard to stay with my friends as they loosened up. Whether it was rocking out to this crazy 80s band on the wedding eve or swinging around to the band at the reception, it was hard for me to let loose and just let go. I retained my inhibitions, my awareness of myself and others. I had the same sense of longing for oblivion that I've written about previously.

In thinking about it I've realized that my cancer has forced me into sobriety on multiple levels. I've sobered up to aspects of life that most people my age won't be facing for years down the road. I'm sober in that my awareness and my perspective has grown and widened, encompassing all parts of life and not just the good stuff. The hard stuff. The harsh reality of what's fair, what's luck, what's fate, and how the hell do I get through it all if I have no idea what's in store? How do you search for the meaning of life when you don't even know exactly what you're looking for?

I watched my friends as they ran for last call, as they danced the night away, swishing their skirts and flipping their hair, frivolous, oblivious, and exactly how they should be in this time of their lives. Meanwhile I tried to enjoy myself and not think about my pill schedule or my scars or my boyish hair. But it was really really hard. So that's what I mean. It sucked to be sober because it sucked to have to remember all this stuff that I wish I could just let go of every once in a while. It's not that it sucked not to be able to have alcohol, it just sucked that I couldn't escape my own realities.

I can't drink because my liver obviously has enough on its plate to metabolize. So what do I do with my brain? My brain has too much on its plate too! Maybe the blog should be "The Metabolization..." rather than "The Adventures..." Even now I'm thinking about the ironic dichotomy between the fog of chemo brain and this shining beacon of acuity and awareness that I'm so desperate to escape from once in a while. My physical sobriety has created a mental sobriety... so when's my happy hour?!