So of the whopping 5 people who read this blog, 3 of them know how addicted I am to reading. I'm just as passionate about writing, but lately- nothing. The Muses have not thrown me even one small nugget of linguistical (Yes, I made that adjective up) nourishment. I'm so frustrated because I really wanted to be working on something publishable this year and I have NADA.
Back to the reading. One of my best friends is addicted to reading as I am. She is an enabler of my addiction to books and I devour just about everything she puts on her Kindle. I finished one book (Sad Desk Salad) and started another (The Fault in Our Stars) yesterday.
Well holy genius batman. I am in love with this book*. John Green is exactly the kind of writer I always wanted to be, with all his lyrical bantering between characters and perfectly placed pieces of pop culture and literary references. Just. So. Good.
This book is the kind of book that makes you want to fall in love despite the unbearable sadness of the plot (teenagers with cancer). It's the kind of story that makes you question everything you think you know and for someone who lives with an incurable, chronic illness this hits especially close to home.
Case in point- My own body attacked itself. So the WG is my own body's fault, it is a part of me, I'm a part of it. So does that mean the I am WG? Or that WG is me? This is something I continue to struggle with 4 years post diagnosis. I don't want to be defined by something I don't have any control over, but the fact of the matter is that WG changed my life and rocked me to the core. I've clearly had to adapt and change over the past few years to deal with everything living with vasculitis has brought to me. Some days I want to hide the fact that I'm "sick". I don't want to talk about it, deal with it, think about it. Other days I am proud of the fact that I've dealt with this for so long, mostly on my own, and I want to raise awareness and educate as many people as possible about this dastardly disease.
Lately I've been torn about hiding it, permanently. This Rituxan has been a game changer, I haven't felt this good in a long, long time. There are stretches of hours where I don't even remember that I'm "sick". I especially want to hide it when it comes to the (lack of a) relationship front. I feel compelled to share this part of my life because it really has made me who I am today. But everyone runs. No guy wants to deal with this- the fact that this could be a forever problem, the fact that I might not be able to have babies, the fact that if I flare I go back on prednisone and it wreaks havoc with my mind and my heart and my weight. Part of me says "Well, why should they deal with this nonsense?"
And then the other part of me says "Well if no one should have to deal with it, it is a good thing you are a teacher because you won't ever have babies of your own or a boyfriend or a husband".
So there's that. I haven't finished The Fault in our Stars yet, so I don't know how the story will turn out. I did get to a big plot twist this morning and I'm not emotionally ready to finish the book.
I'll leave you with a quote that hit particularly hard this morning.
"I'm in love with you," he said quietly.
"Augustus," I said.
"I am," he said. He was staring at me, and I could see the corners of his eyes crinkling. "I'm in love with you, and I'm not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. I'm in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we're all doomed that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we'll ever have and I am in love with you."
~ The Fault in Our Stars by John Green ~
*NB: Books are so much better to fall in love with than humans. They don't get vasculitis, or cancer, or end up in relationships with people who don't deserve them.