2010: Don’t Let The Door Hit You On The Ass On The Way Out

I have been thinking a lot about what to write as my last blog of 2010. My first inclination was to title this entry with, “Fuck Off 2010” but although I still strongly agree with the sentiment, it seemed a tad negative. Just a tad.

Then, I was thinking of reviewing all the reasons why this year sucked. The more I thought about that though, the more I realized that it wasn’t really necessary. Not only have many of you lovely, kind, patient people been reading all about my “Year of Suckage” regularly but to recapitulate all the things that went wrong in 2010 seemed too negative and useless.

It reminded me of a metaphor I heard years ago. I’m probably going to tell it wrong so bear with me… but it went like this: If you’re drowning and you have a weight strapped to your ankle keeping you under water, you don’t want to know how much it weighs, you just want to know how to get the damn thing off so you can come up for air. To me, that metaphor (even as badly as I just relayed it) is why I didn’t want to do a list of why I hate 2010. It was not a good year. We all know this. How is it going to help talking about it anymore than I already have? Also, maybe the old adage is true that if you ignore something, it’ll go away. I think I would like to spend the remaining hours of this unlucky year by ignoring it so that it will, in fact, truly fuck off once and for all.

So this leads me to what I do want to talk about. A few days before Christmas, I was doing what I usually do every morning: running to catch the subway. I’m always late to most everything. I was even born two weeks late. My mother said they were beginning to wonder if I was ever going to come out. I’m also not a morning person. If someone told me I was going to get the best oral sex of my life but it was scheduled for 6am, I’d tell them “No thanks” and I’d sleep in. That’s how much of a morning person I’m not.

As I was half asleep and running down the subway stairs, I was thinking of a million things: the end of the year, if I wrapped that present for my niece, why the homeless wait outside of ATM machines when clearly you don’t have change (otherwise why would you be at the ATM?) and how to fully enjoy the holidays without being able to eat cookies. That’s when suddenly, out of nowhere, I had a realization. I heard a voice in my head say as clear as a summer day, “You’re not the same person you were when you started this year.” It took my breath away. Well, running down the stairs didn’t help but you know what I mean.

Something about this realization made me sad. It was like after September 11th, 2001 when everyone kept saying, “Nothing is going to be the same anymore.” I HATED this statement. I knew they were right and I knew they didn’t necessarily mean things were going to be worse but that’s how it felt. As a New Yorker, I was perfectly happy with how everything was before September 11th and the thought of it being altered in any way deeply upset me. In reality, although things have changed, a new “normal” took its place. It’s not better or worse. It’s just different.

And I guess that’s how I am now. I’m not who I was at the start of the year but I’m not better or worse. I’m just different. There are parts that are improvements and there are parts that are… well, more damaged I guess. My level of hope (not to mention my bank account and sex life) have definitely taken some hits this year but on the positive, I learned how much I can rely on my sense of humor as a source of strength. I’ve also learned that there are people out there who sincerely are compassionate, understanding, supportive and generous in ways I’ve never thought possible (yes, I’m talking about you) and I’ve learned the importance of getting a second opinion as well as naming your uterine polyp simply because it CRACKED me up every time I referred to Jackson Polyp.

As much as I’ve gained (and lost), there are still a few lessons I struggle with like you can’t plan or worry about things months from now. I’m not always good at that one as I’m a very talented worrier but I do try to at least prioritize my worries now. Really – it’s come to that. I make a list of my worries and say, “Ok, I’ll worry about losing weight today and then tomorrow, I’ll worry about getting into a clinical trial for my next IVF!” Yes my friends; I’ve created a worrying schedule.

I’ve noticed I’m a little less social than I was at the beginning of the year (avoiding people, pregnancy talk or simply choosing to stay home and throw a pity party). I’m also less of a believer in “Things will work out somehow!” It’s not that I’ve lost hope. It’s just that instead of thinking, “Things will work out”, I think “I will find a way to deal with whatever happens.” I don’t know how things are going to work out. I REALLY know that now and they only way I can stay positive these days is not by having confidence in a happy ending, but by having confidence in me and my ability to get through it.

If someone put a gun to my head (and I hope that no one ever does) and yelled at me, “THINK OF THE MOST POSITIVE LESSON FROM THIS YEAR!” (which would be a weird thing for a gun man to say), it would be that even though I cried more this year than I can remember in recent history and even though the disappointments were impressively painful and numerous, I survived it. I’m 20 pounds heavier, thousands of dollars lighter, a bit more cynical and much less optimistic but dammit, I made it through. I’m like the runner who barely crosses the finish line an hour late, bullet ridden, looking like shit and panting like a dog – but I STILL finished the marathon that was 2010.

If we stick with the 2010 “Marathon Metaphor” one paragraph more — All of you who have commented or follow me on Twitter or Facebook, have been the ones who have cheered me on and handed me cups of water along the way. I want to take this moment and thank you for that. Making fun of fertility issues by your self is one thing. Having people laugh at it along with you is entirely another. As an occasional comic, I can affirm that one person laughing at their own joke can look strange (especially if you’re walking down a street alone giggling) but a group of people laughing together makes the joke that much more funny.

So, in closing, I officially say “Fuck off 2010” and may 2011 NOT suck.