I've lost my ability to think analytically. I've lost a portion of my eyesight, making me ever further myopic. My memory and concentration have both degraded significantly. I lost too much money through gambling. I managed to sustain a medium-distance relationship over ten months, then it fell apart when we lived in the same city again. I felt more isolated and alone than I ever have before in my life. I've suffered from depression and anxiety, seen a counsellor, taken a course of Xanax. I kissed a friend that I shouldn't have, and didn't kiss one that I should. I drank my way through half of February and most of March. I had to spend one weekend minding thirty children by myself. I had root canal treatment. I realised too many of my friends are self-centred people.
I discovered who my real friends are. I achieved a Masters qualification (touch wood). I watched and listened to Leonard Cohen play two magical concerts. I didn't drink for just about all of April. I've been to Cork, Cavan, Sligo, Wexford, Louth, Galway, Meath, Inis Mor, Donegal, Clare. I met some amazing people, and befriended many. I travelled around Wales and Cornwall, visited London and Edinburgh several times. I've had two friends get engaged, and two get married. I heard Regina Spektor, Iron and Wine, and Tom McRae all make wonderful music. I holidayed in northern Spain and southern Germany. I cycled across the country, twice. I spent six months getting top-level experience in an ISP. I heard Henry Rollins rant and preach, up close. Thirty kids made my life a richer, more joyful experience. My family are all in good health, and my friends are the greatest people on this planet.
And I sit back and wonder, how much of this could I have done differently? How much would I really want to?
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