A year ago today I fell. And in someways, it was the best thing that ever happened. I had been falling for awhile. That year I had fallen apart in more ways than one. I was falling apart with school, relationships, with me. I was getting to the point where I wasn't recognizing myself anymore. I was going out almost every night. Getting drunk, not sleeping, not going to class, not thinking. That was the most important part. Not thinking. I did anything I could not to be alone, so I wouldn't have to think. In part, about being alone, or that I was falling apart. I was falling apart, and showing no signs of coming up for air.
But then I fell - literally.
I was doing laundry in my apartment, and I fell down the stairs, and my life got better. Not immediately. No, true to form, I went upstairs, ace-wrapped my wrist, and went to the bar. It wasn't until the next day at work when everything was painful, and driving home hurt so bad I could barely stay on the road that I let my friends, whom I had been neglecting, talk me into going to the hospital. A few hours of waiting, x-rays and poking and prodding later, we discovered that I had 2 cracked ribs (one on each side in back, right where a bra strap goes across - ouch!) and had done something funky to my wrist. Even after casts, months of physical therapy, and surgery, we're not really sure what.
After I fell, I couldn't do a lot of things. I was a mess. But, I had to find something new. I couldn't go to the bar, I couldn't stay out all night, I couldn't even really drive. But I rediscovered what I loved. My friends, including my best friend catgirl, a crazy vegan (two separate thoughts, she is crazy, and she's vegan, not crazy because she's vegan - and I love that she's both - hi K ^_~) who helped keep me sane, and my love who took care of me and put me back together in every way possible. We had broken up 6 months before the fall, which was not a cause of the falling apart, but probably a result. And, given the lots of time I had on my hands, I also took up cooking, which I had long loved, but hadn't really had time for. My cooking was also helped by moving out of my tiny apartment, into one with a much nicer kitchen, including dishwasher. This led to my squash enchilada's, and this blog.
You'd think today I'd celebrate with cooking up a storm, but I did something to my shoulder, and it hurts like hell. I tried to lift a frying pan with that hand earlier, and ick. The boy and I made nachos, and I have been cooking a bunch lately.
Recently I discovered quinoa, in all it's yummy goodness. But that's a story for another day.
Really what I was thinking with this was that I'm a completely different person than I was a year ago. And part of that major change had been this. Rather than going out, rather than wallow, I discovered cooking. The joy of making something myself, either for myself, or for others. It's productive, it's healthy, and it allows me to do something for me, and, by not using any animal products, I can do something for them, and hopefully convince more people that being vegetarian is completely normal healthy, and tasty. And that's really what this is all about.