Hello!
I know it has been over a year since my last newsletter. But I have…like the BEST excuse. Two weeks after I published it, I went to my second doctors appointment, three months after complaining of shortness of breath. On Aug 20, 2019, I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer.
One year ago today, I had my thyroid removed in order to treat both the Thyroid Cancer an autoimmune disorder called Graves Disease. Each of the past 365 days of recovery and adjustment has been difficult and joyful in its own way. Recovery is not a linear path, nor is living with chronic illness, and neither of those things are helped by a global pandemic/national descent into autocracy.
^^this is my scar! Her name is Livi!
One thing that sucks about being a Sick Person™ is walking the line between being honest and gentle with myself and stockpiling little, justifiable excuses that evolve into regrets. Because living in my body poses an active challenge on so many days, I sometimes consider that work a substitute for effort in other areas (keeping up relationships, doing household things, furthering my career and my art). But over this past year, I’ve learned that there’s a difference between being kind to my body and selling myself short. Those moments of self doubt masquerading as grace and forgiveness accumulate into days and weeks of inaction that make me feel shameful and sad and stagnant.
I’ve been sick and recovering and in this pattern for two years now and my insides feel hollowed out (and not just the part they actually removed a gland from ah cha cha!). It’s time to acknowledge the true extent of my emptiness so I can start to fill myself up again and love and push and share the person that the bullshit couldn’t crush, in her fullest form.
But another way of saying empty is ‘open’ (other ways include void or bare or desolate...but we’re gonna stick with open!). I don’t feel like I know who I am, what I want, or even what I like anymore! I also have absolutely bonkers anxiety around starting any and every new thing. But it’s this type of discomfort that I refuse to bow to from here on out. And rather than mourn or pity my current state, I’ve decided to combine the vast chasm that is my soul with the people-pleasing try-hard that is my me to create a new personal project that’s scary, exciting, overwhelming, and super simple!
I am going to try to solicit 110 (10x11 - the date of my surgery, cue eyeroll) book/movie/show/album/recipe/workout/etc recommendations from friends, family, and twitter acquaintances and take them all before this date next year. It’s like “what would you attempt if you knew you could not fail” except “what cultural experience would you tell Taylor to partake in if you knew she could not say no.” I’m looking for recs of all rhymes and reasons - things I should experience because they’re good, things I should slog through because they’re bad, things that are hard but important, things that are just so stupid they demand to be seen, things that are cultural touchstones that I have not yet experienced and honestly you can’t believe I’ve made it this far without making the shallot pasta/running a half marathon/seeing The Matrix (all true).
I’m taking recommendations in this google doc. If you’re so inclined, I would love to hear from you. I’ll keep the newsletter updated with my progress/reviews/conversations with recommenders? I don’t know!! I’ll figure that out as I go! All I need right now is a suggestion of anything at all.
We often credit illness and tragedy with ‘reminding us of what’s important’ and helping us appreciate that ‘it can all be gone in a moment.’ But we don’t really talk about what happens when that moment is over and we’re still here, picking through the embers of before, trying to catalog what’s missing and decide whether or not to replace it. For two years I have been clinging to my body and my comfort and sometimes (but too rarely) my family saying this is important this is important this is important. But I have decided that this is not enough for a life. I want more than what is important. I want what is fun and bad and dated and a little salty and too sad and not ambitious enough and perfect and Uncle Joe’s favorite and all of the other things that things are while we are not-dead enough to have someone tell us we JUST HAVE TO see them.
I love you all! Thanks for the rec!!!
(also as a chronically ill artist getting health insurance from the union of my immigrant husband...I IMPLORE YOU to vote!)