it's weird, when they talk about near-death experiences, one always pictures a great, big white light in the sky, which may or may not be accompanied by an angel or whatever divine figure of your choosing.

i think i had one this week. or at least that's what i want it to represent. on tuesday, against my better wishes, i was taken to the emergency room at the royal victoria hospital. as of right now i am dead convinced that that little manouver saved my life. but what struck me most were two things: one, the fact that the doctors and nurses were so kind and nice to me. my experience, especially as of late with the assholes at the mcgill clinic have been extremely negative, so to be treated with respect and dignity while in a less than dignified position was welcomed with open arms. two, as much as i have always been scared of hospitals, i thought of them as these life-giving organisms. but being in one it not only scared me even more deeply, i just felt surrounded by the shadow of death.

so, as i lay there on the bed, waiting for some meds to help break my fever, i hallucinated. i was so far gone at that point i wasn't sure if i was waking up at all. and this is where the near-death experience thing comes into play. i lay there, my eyes tightly shut, fighting the light, and instead of imagining the end or the nothingness that may lay beyond, i could only visualise food. and what was worse was that it was like my favourite meals, like grilled cheese, and instead of feeling content or joyous or what have you, i felt so incredibly nauseous that i had to open my eyes to stop them. it was either them or my stomach, and my stomach won out.

thinking from then to today, it's such a huge jump. i'm alive again. not totally intact yet, but getting there. i really need to be better. my mouth hurts. i cannot talk or eat and it's been making me want to cry. hope has been found in the form or orajel, but still, nothing feels like the real thing.

i have been contemplating my life again this week. for some reason whenever i would put things back together when they fell apart before in my life, the reconstituted person didn't look a whole lot different. i would stop doing a certain thing, and yes this would be fine, but in the end there was no massive change.

i do not want a monumental shift in my life. i have fun going out. i cannot do it ever again to the extent to which i did it this past summer. that was ridiculous beyond belief. nor will alcohol play any major role in said activities. i look at it differently. it is just a thing, not a facilitator. it's not going to make me any better personality-wise, though it does help me open up. do i really want that? hell no.

but i want to keep some things the same. i've gotten to the point where i can see the writing on the wall and i know what the hell i am doing, it's just that i have to put all the pieces into play. whether i win or lose at least i have a chance to play. for that second that i thought i was going to die it was not sheer terror but my stomach which made me open my eyes and stop taking comfort in hallucinations. as many times as i have made slight changes before, this time is the big one.

i'm sitting in toronto right now. i needed to get away from montreal and all the shit that has been bothering me. i'm still putting together the pieces of what happened between matthew and i. i don't regret anything about that relationship. that is a first. nothing i would change, nothing i would wish had been easier or longer. i just hope that it is more than just a memory. i want to know him.

i like this city a lot. i always have. not sure why, there is just something very english canadian to it, something that i lack in montreal. coming from the west, ontario, especially toronto feels overtly canadian in a way. most easterners don't see it, but when you grow up in the 51st state, it shifts your position. i will be living here this time next year. i don't know for how long, but that will be THE big move, the one that i have been thinking about my entire life. it's scary to think that it's going to happen and that i won't just be a foreigner in this city anymore, that the streets i walk on will be my streets and not on loan for a few days from the residents proper.

we went clubbing for a bit tonight. it was fun. the scene here is so different. i feel like i can dip my toe in and not get soaking wet. montreal is so intense it is almost unbearable. toronto is just crazy enough to work for me. there are times to have fun, but also real life exists. i'm sure you could party every single night here, but it wouldn't be realistic.

but the one thing that struck me as i walked home from buddies is i still felt disconnected. i know why, it's because i am cut off from people. i can barely speak. it hurts to talk. i have had so much to say and it has frustrated me to the point of me almost breaking down in tears in shoppers' drug mart because i couldn't find something to help numb the pain my tongue is causing. i found it, it is temporary relief, but relief is relief.

i don't know what world i will find when i get back to montreal on monday. but i have so much to do and not nearly enough time. after all, black and blue, concerts, midterm, papers, maine for the weekend, all this stuff is waiting for me. it's gonna be crazy.

... posted at 1:55 a.m. by gleefully gloomy. ...