To be a bit crazy.

Got home yesterday afternoon, exhausted and dehydrated from the flight, and collapsed into a near-coma after the obligatory bath. I’m not sure why I was so wiped at the end of this trip, but it was extreme this time around. Perhaps it’s just the number of things weighing on me at the moment, not the least of which is moving in five days.

But Ottawa was productive for me in both work and union contexts, and I unexpectedly got two whole afternoons off. One of my meetings was canceled on Friday afternoon, which I substituted with wandering around the National Gallery before meeting friends for dinner – and on Sunday, my union bargaining group finished work early, which gave me extra date with Anna that we spent down at the market (lunch and book-shopping). It is pretty rare that I get any time off in Ottawa, and it’s not a bad place for things to see and do (as a tourist that is, I think living there might get a bit boring).

Besides the Group of Seven paintings which I spent a lot of time hanging about with, my favourite exhibition currently showing at the gallery was one imported from the museum of contemporary photography (shut at the moment for renovations) which combined oil painting and photographs to quite interesting effects. There was also a four-panel piece in the contemporary art section by Marianne Nicholson which engaged me – depicting the history of colonialism in BC in traditional and modern symbols. In any event, it was an excellent way to spend a rainy afternoon in the capital city and besides the security guards, I had many of the large halls to myself for long periods of time, a feeling I always enjoy in museums and galleries.

I’m struggling a bit lately with some really negative thought patterns that are encroaching on my ability to cope with the everyday. I’m not sure why now, except that I’m burnt out and not taking the best care of myself. I think also the approaching anniversary of Darren’s arrest and the nagging grief of the one-year mark since Joe disappeared are having their effects. Increasingly I am having anxiety attacks that seem to be related to this set of events, a deep fear in me realizing that there are people I will never see again. Delayed mourning? Survivor’s guilt? I don’t know. But I’m working with some cognitive exercises to try and reverse or at least quell the darkest corner of my mind before it actually starts to dismantle the generally good state I’ve got my life in.

I *am* very much looking forward to my move at the end of this weekend – not as a panacea – but definitely as a way to recoup time. The city seems very appealing to me at the moment – the energy, events and people – and in the short-term it feels very much like where I belong. I definitely have a sense that once I get the move completed, I can focus on getting myself stronger and taking care of other things. For those of you who actually know me in person, you will be receiving my new phone number and address soon.

It has been pointed out to me recently that I do have a lot going on at the moment, and to be a bit crazy is perfectly alright as long as I keep accessing my support network in the meantime. Thankfully, I have lots of practice with that 😉 . I do plan to spend the next few days with the tunes that make me happy cranked, and tunnel-vision to the goal of a smooth move on Sunday.