Sprung

The sky is a startling blue today, the sun is shining. It's only 2 February, but from here inside my cell it really looks like spring has sprung (it's mostly likely a lot colder outside than it is here in this hothouse, but still. Spring - the real deal, I mean - really is less than 7 weeks away now...).

My roommate has gone away for the day, and I'll actually be out too this afternoon, invited to a pancake party (here in France, for those of you that don't know, today is La Chandeleur - no idea what that actually means, but it translates into the day that traditionally pancakes are made and consumed in great quantities). The girls are invited too, as is Y.

Ah, Y. He's breaking my heart with his kindness, his friendship. I miss having his arms around me, I miss HIM, all of him. I adore his friendship, I appreciate his help more than I can ever say, but that doesn't mean that my heart doesn't break a little bit more every time I seem him and realise that it really is over between us. And that there will most likely never be anyone else.

I shall get older (not that I have any intention whatsoever to get much older, if you get my drift), and most likely die alone, unnoticed, unmissed, unloved.

I've pretty much decided to go ahead with the ECT. What the hell more can I lose? Yes, I can lose my memory, but ultimately, is that really such a bad thing?

I have my appointment with the anaesthetist on Thursday, and probably my first zapping session the next day. I am, of course, terrified. Y is going to be furious with me (he's wildly against it), but I really don't think I have anything more to lose.

My life sucks. Yes, it could get worse still, but I'm willing to take the risk. And if it sucks worse than before, I have a large stock of medication that should take care of things once and for all.

But today, the sky is blue, the sun is shining, tout baigne.