Life is not forever. Love is.

I stole that quote from my friend. They wrote it on her grave.

I'm finally going back to work on Monday. I love to make lists. So I had a lot of things to cross off before I went back. I'd never been to see Donia since she died. I couldn't do it. It just makes the whole thing more real. I've never deleted her number from my phone. But for all my avoiding it, I knew it was something I had to do.

My best friend took me this week. (For the rest of you, who think you're my best friend, I'm sorry. Jay is.) He keeps promising me he'll never die and since he's Asian, he might be right. But I don't trust it. There were a lot of Asians in that cemetery.

If you go to Mount Pleasant Cemetery, (sidepoint the only cemetery I would agree to be buried in if I didn't have an elaborate plan to be buried at sea), it's complicated. They give you a map that makes no sense and you just have to search and search until you find what you're looking for.

I found her. I cried. I brought flowers, but that seemed kind of silly in the moment. In some ways, it makes me happy that I just want to get thrown into the sea when I go so no one will ever have to bring flowers to my grave and cry. On the other hand, say there was someone who wanted to come see me and talk to me. There would be nowhere for them to go.

I got to do that. To talk to her, to tell her I missed her. To cry. She was generous, even when she left us. She was the best person I've ever known. Jay walked Max around the grounds and came back to get me.

Life is short. One of my special friends is grieving the loss of someone that was important to her. I don't have any advice. I can't do anything but listen. I can tell you this: these silly wars we have, the walls we build and the fences we put up, they don't help us, they just hurt us.

Lindsay, put down the guns. It's not worth the lost time.

Dalyse, no one will ever replace John. If something were to happen to Jay, you'd have to come over and scrape me off the floor. I wouldn't want to live in a world without him. So I know how you feel. I didn't want to live in a world without Donia either. But unlike the fairytale I actually believed in for most of my life, we don't live forever. But love does. Donia was right about that. You can be gone, but the love lives on.

Sullivan out.

Nautical Disaster

Sometimes I feel adrift. Okay, more like I'm sinking. Like right now. But there are a few people who are always there for me.

And I have to say thank you. Jay always says "I got you". And I gotta admit, he does. You can't leave the apartment? I'll come over and hold your hand so you can take your dog out. You need money? Clothes? Company? I got you.

And he's not the only one but I figured it was time for him to deserve his own blog.

Last week was not great. I had to meet with a lawyer to resolve some issues. I had to contact my ex-husband to resolve some other things. Then the JWs thought it would be a good time to swoop in. Remind me of all the things I try to forget. I broke up with the guy I was seeing. I kept thinking about taking the sword off the wall and making this time be the last time I feel like this.

Then I thought about Donia, who was one of the best friends and best people I've ever known. She beat cancer twice. The third time won. Most people don't understand it, but depression is a disease too. She was so mad at me when I tried to kill myself because she fought so hard to live.

So round three is not going to get me. My bounce back time is getting better every time. I just hate this version of me. On the other hand, how lucky am I to have people who stick with me every time?

When Donia was dying, I sat by her hospital bed for hours every week, even when she didn't know I was there. I guess the Universe does pay it back when you're a good person.

This whole story didn't end up being all about Jay. :) But he did used to drive me to the hospital to see her and wait outside for me and take me home. He sits with me when I cry. He makes sure I eat. He loves Max. He's paid my vet bills when I couldn't and slept by my side when I couldn't be trusted to be alone.

Depression lies to us. It tells us that we are not worthy of love. That we are weak. And society hasn't caught up to accepting the fact that this is not some made up condition in our head. And those stigmas? They aren't true.

If you are dealing with this too, just know you're not alone. And the fights not over until we decide it is. Me? The sword will stay on the wall. I'll be on that plane on Friday and soon I'll taste salt water again. I'm the Captain of my sinking boat. I can choose not to drown. : )

Sullivan out.

Sunday mornings are not always easy

"Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for awhile." - The Princess Bride

I'm not even really sure what I want to say today. But it's Sunday morning so here we go. Yesterday was Donia's birthday. She's been gone five months and I'm still crying this morning. She was one of the best friends I have ever had, ever will have. My ex-boyfriend is practically living at my apartment while we try to make sense of his good friends death last week. Death sucks. Unfortunately as we age, this is part of life. 

Wouldn't it be great if we could go back to being young, no real responsibilities. When work didn't dominate our lives, when we thought we were immortal. Turn back time to the good old days. 

Donia is definitely somewhere special now. She's one of the best people I've ever known. I hope you had a lovely birthday, my darling. True friendship is hard to come by. It's kind of funny, but the first JW I bumped into since disassociating myself the other week from the religion was Celine. 

Celine, Heather, Monique and I were like those girls from Sex and the City. Only we were JWs so we didn't have sex. And we weren't allowed to watch SATC. But we were friends since we were little kids. Inseparable. All bridesmaids in each other's weddings. Except Celine, she never got married. I don't think she really knows how to love - herself or anyone else. 

I saw her on the street a couple of days ago. She did that thing that they all do, look you straight in the face so you know they saw you, then avert their eyes and walk quicker past you. Like they might catch your non-believer disease. There's only one picture I keep up in my apartment from my JW past. It's of the four of us. Two of us got out. And now we get shunned on the street by the people who were supposed to love us. 

It was real. It was good. But it wasn't real good. 

This is what real friendship looks like:

Today will not be the last day I cry for Donia. Or George. I know one thing though. I will love the fuck out of everyone I have left. Be kind to one another. The days are long but the years are short. 

Sullivan out.

Live Free or Die Hard

I've become way too familiar with the hospital. One of my best friends is dying so I spend more than the usual amount of time in palliative care. If I had been normal, maybe this would be easier. Maybe it wouldn't. Having lost so many people though, this is hard.

This is not and never will be about me. It's about her. She was my rock. Yah, Jehovah's Witnesses aren't allowed to be friends with outsiders, but I broke the rules once. We ended up with a 20 year friendship that can never be replaced.

She is beautiful. Even while she's dying. She is funny. She's your perfect girl. Your perfect friend.

I have two voices in my head. First, my mother. My uncle Ken was dying around the same age as my friend and I had to put his cat down. My mother asked me why I would stay and watch it instead of just leaving. It was because I knew I'd get home and he would ask me how it went. And because the kitty deserved to have someone holding her hand while it happened.

The other, stronger voice is my dad. I told him the other day that my mother would not approve of me being there for my friend because it makes me sad. I deal with depression and I know we need to choose our battles. Dad just said: "You're not like her, You're like me."And I'm genuinely happy about that.

I received an email today from the past life. A friend who I really love. The message: Come back to Jehovah. Honestly, if I never hear that name again it will be too soon. I can't do that.

In honour of my wonderful friend, I choose to live life free and honestly. None of us know how much time we have left. So let's live free and die hard. :)

Off to the hospital, have a great night.

Sullivan out.

Rainy Days and Mondays

We're having a terrific thunder and lightning storm in Toronto. There's really nothing better on a Friday night than writing a blog and watching the rain in your cozy apartment and Blue Rodeo tshirt. 

I forgot to tell y'all about going to Blue Rodeo by myself a couple of weekends ago. I love them. I was afraid of running into JWs (they all love that band for some reason) but they are my favorite so I chanced it. I kept a low profile, drank a glass of wine and had a wonderful time. And then I bought a tshirt, even though we all know I have way too many Blue Rodeo tshirts. I figure if I get to the point where I let the JWs keep me away from the things I love, they're still winning. I want to win. :)

Anyways, I'd like to reintroduce you to Donia, aka "Trashy Black Ho". Before y'all think I'm racist, she's totally okay with that nickname. She started it actually, she kept calling me "Streetwalker Barbie". Streetwalker Barbie needed a comeback. 

She is the oldest non-JW friend I have in Toronto, besides my brother of course. (Who is fabulous, yes Michael, you're fabulous.) I met her 19 years ago and even though as a JW you're not technically allowed to be friends with the rest of the world (unless you're converting them, then it's okay) we managed to work it out somehow. And stay friends all these years. 

We've gone through a million ups and downs, mommy issues, boy problems. I remember when the screensaver on her computer said: "Happiness is the remission of pain." Dramatic much? But we both were. :) 

I went through my first real heartbreak with her next door. She used to sing "Rainy Days and Mondays" to me at the office. She has a beautiful voice. I think about that when it rains as crazy as it is tonight. 

When we worked together our offices were right next door to each other and we used to just talk through the walls. The girl who worked across the hall would kill herself laughing to us. We were ridiculous and probably extremely inappropriate most of the time.

Then, she got cancer. She was exactly the same age as my uncle Ken, who I watched waste away from that fucking disease. But she beat it. It wasn't easy and there were a lot of sacrifices made on her part. But she is one of the strongest women I know, she did it and then it was over. And everyone was so happy. 

And then it came back. I'm old enough to know that second time around is never good. They gave her 6-12 months to live last August. I would visit her, see her in her hospital bed and we would make jokes about her dying. Because that's how she is - always funny, always smart, always rescillient.  

One night, we went to visit her in palliative care. My brother offered to make her seafood pasta in a few nights. It was raining and he wiped out on his motorbike on the way home. He showed up, on time, a few nights later with real dishes and cutlery and the seafood dish. He had a broken arm. But that's the kind of love she inspires with her pure soul. 

I don't think everyone will understand our humour. I've been so sick myself I haven't been able to be there for her the way I would have liked but tonight we caught up and made plans for Monday. We were talking about all the things we've been through and my wedding came up. 

Me: I was a pretty bride though right?

Her: Yah totally. I wanted to knock you down and rip your face off. 

And there you have it - Streetwalker Barbie and Trashy Black Ho stuck with each other for eternity or until something comes along that can actually kill us. We're doing pretty good beating the odds so far. 

Tonight? Hearing the news that she was cancer free? I cried as much as I cried the night she called me and said the cancer was back. But these were tears of joy, of relief, of finally feeling like the Universe I try to believe in was righting itself after all this pain. 

I love you bitch. Thanks for not dying. 

Sullivan out.