Been trying for days to figure out a good way to get back into this whole blaaaaaaaaahging thing. People probably want to hear how I’m doing and what I’ve been up to.
Surviving. Dealing. Avoiding. Crying. Coping. Teeth-grinding. Eating. Working. Slacking. Worrying. Staring. Thinking. Hiding. Redecorating. Running. Sleeping. Raging. Suppressing. Sighing. Missing.
And SO MANY PEOPLE have sent me wonderful comments of support and concern and offers to help in any way they can and… I have avoided them all. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know when I will. But I’ve read everything. And I do thank you all so much for your wishes. It means the world to me.
It probably sounds totally banal, but the thing I have been doing the most to to make myself feel better is read comic books. I went through stacks of my old X-Men comics — we’re talking dozens upon dozens — until I ran out. And then I started ordering trade collections online. And going to the local comic store. I’m sort of embarrassed to even hint at how much I’ve spent on comics in the past month. I have paid rent before that cost less.
But they are really helping.
There’s this little thing called escapism.
It’s my friend.
It was actually my Dad that taught me not to be ashamed about my love of escapism. His theory? “I live in the ‘real world’. Why do I want to read about it? I want to read about things that aren’t in my world.”
And I’ve been reading comics since I was seven. My allowance, for as long as a had an allowance, was always enough for me to buy a chocolate bar or a bag of chips and three comics. So if comics went up in price, so did my allowance. And I ALWAYS spent it on that chocolate bar or bag of chips and those three comics.
(Who’s idea was that allowance setup? My Dad.)
I got out of collecting comics in university — too much money — but I always dipped my toes back in periodically. And I always had my friend Josh who kept me in the loop with trade collections every birthday and Christmas.
But now, I’m back in, baby. Full force.
I’m reading comics. To escape.
Is that a bad thing, escaping? Don’t know. Don’t care.
I’m taking my joy where I can get it right now.
If you’re looking for me, I’ll be the one in the corner hanging out with Kitty Pryde and Lockheed.