There were three main crews vacationing at the farm that weekend. The Ottawa crew consisted of Trolley, Aaron, and I. In the Toronto crew was Adam, Efrem, Lyda, and Jim. The main group, the ones originally from Bancroft, were Tyler with Meryl, Eric, Sarah, Matt, and Kate, although Trolley and Adam would also be considered members, and brought their respective crews. Of course, even Trolley’s cousins showed up, as they always do, since they’re only a short snowmobile ride away.

It took a few hours for everyone to arrive, since people were up to five hours away, so time was spent The Streets listening, card playing, and alcohol inducing while waiting. When Eric walked in and said, “WOAH”, Aaron and I completely stopped what we were doing and looked at each other. It was obvious that Eric was loaded already, because he’s rarely so boisterous.

And Sarah’s brown cow filled the snifter when she started.

A few months ago, Trolley, Aaron, and I headed over to the farm for some partying, snowboarding, and general relaxation. It was only a weekend, but it was one of the best weekends in years.

During the ride over, we stopped off at a grocery store to load up on munchables. Every time I see the video, I remember how excited I was, just from hearing my voice. A weekend away with two friends and no worries. Of course, I’m so excited that my voice cracks, and it sounds like I’m going through puberty again.

 

 

Being on the farm is like being in a world of its own. 350 acres of land, including little forests, a hunting shed, snowmobile paths, cows, and limited light pollution. Just imagine the privacy, with the nearest neighbour not even at earshot. At night it’s a debilitating darkness, and the milky way comes out enough for one to make out the distance of specific stars.

Promised myself I’d be in bed by nine, but my nervousness has made me too jittery to sleep.

“Poignant”, he said, just as I was thinking the word, and it made me realize that if there’s one thing I do try to be, it’s poignant. I don’t know why. Perhaps it shows good communication. Perhaps there’s mental relief in knowing that one is not alone, that others can understand and may feel the same way.

There were two other things I was going to write about, but this is the only thing I think I can get down. Too tired to write, and too nauseous to sleep. I tried to talk through it with John first, to get my thoughts in order, but there was only one conclusion.

I only feel alone when I’m sick.

There’s this thing that’s missing, and if I generalize it enough, it comes down to someone with unconditional acceptance. One may think of the classic maternal figure: a person who can be depended on, no matter what the circumstances. With the (ideal) mother, even aside from a physical presence, there’s a mental support there. Someone who’s willing to go out of their way to help in times of need, dire or not. Someone who asks, “Do you need anything?”, before one may actually consider such an idea.

Of course, this is a very specific example, and many other people usually fill such a role, such as relatives, spouses, or friends. Unfortunately, I still find myself without, in these exact areas. I have no family in close proximity. I’m single (and even though I’ve had my fair share of chances to be with people who were willing to unconditionally accept or help me, this wasn’t enough for me to stay with them).

The case of my friends is more complex. Out of the six, two live in different cities, and it remains that Aaron, Pat, Trolley, and Shirley are the only ones who can simply physically be there for me. Shirley is almost always automatically too busy, being the mother of three children and the holder of a full-time job (I don’t know how she does it), so she’s the last person I try to bother. Aaron is seldom there for me, because he’s almost always doing something else, and I never fall high enough on his priority list. When I needed his help during a particularly stressful day, he was out of contact. When I was having a bad shroom trip, he was with his brother (although he did talk me out of one last year when we went camping, which I appreciated greatly). When Louise hurt me for the last time, he was having dinner with his grandparents. None of this is the fault of either Shirley or Aaron, but simply due to the fact that both people are busy. Too busy for me, at least.

I’ve learned that right now, the only people I can depend on are Trolley and Pat, and even then, I still try not to rely on them. Trolley will hang out with me to make sure I’m okay, is willing to get me anything I may need or want, and will even let me decide what we listen to (a very generous gesture), in times of trouble. However, he isn’t as open about how he cares about people, so even though I know that he cares, he doesn’t show it enough for me to be comfortable asking for help. This isn’t his fault; I require a significant amount of reinforcement to be comfortable enough to go to others, and generally it’s more than most people naturally show. Pat is also someone I can call up when I need to, but usually he’s so busy that I need to book him two months in advance. This discourages me from going to him, but he’s one person who will definately make time for me when I ask him.

Perhaps if my friends realized that I only ask for help when I actually feel like I need it, whereas some may think that I go to them for superficial problems. I try to get through as much as I can by myself, but when I can’t handle it alone anymore, I look to others. When I’m turned away in those times, it hurts more than anything else.

Part of this may be blamed on my own low tolerance for pain and sickness, but I don’t think that such a thing should matter. People experience suffering differently and have varying thresholds of pain. What’s important, to me, is whether someone feels like they’re alright or not, not whether or not they actually are. Even if I know that I’m going to get through whatever temporary affliction I may have, it still helps to have someone willing to be there for me (John believes that this simple mental support contributes greatly to the healing process), even if they also know that I’m going to be alright. For example, when I’m hungover after a night of binge drinking, and it seems like I’m throwing up the lining of my stomach, I feel like shit. It’d be nice to have a person who’s willing to help me keep my mind off the nausea, willing to get me whatever I need to cure the hangover, even though it was my fault, my stupidity that got me there in the first place, even though we both know that the hangover will eventually go away.

And if I was comfortable enough to ask this from my friends, maybe I wouldn’t feel so alone.

I’m sick.

Going into work today was a mistake. I’ll be staying home tomorrow.