As is true for most young homosexuals, in my misspent youth there may have been several occasions on which I took far more ecstasy than is necessary and spent the next week at the mercy of the horrible, painful serotonin withdrawal that I absolutely deserved.
Today was sort of like experiencing that process in reverse, which I'll admit is how I always wanted ecstasy to work.
Unfortunately my month of unpleasantness doesn't seem to be over. The most recent news is that my grandmother's cancer has metastasised. This is neither surprising nor really much of a change; she is very old, and she was already unwell. But this still must be heartbreaking for her and my grandfather. I watched cancer kill my father, and several other relatives besides, and that disease, more than nearly anything else on this earth, has the ability to turn me into a sobbing wreck. So I spent most of today either hiding from humanity or being horrible to my partner.
Fortunately, I had the wherewithal to know that baking was probably the answer. I made a giant batch of sugar cookies, and my lovely roommate Whitney was kind enough to make her family's brilliant almond icing. (She even taught me the recipe!) I'm not sure how I'll be doing tomorrow, but at the moment I feel better than I would have thought possible earlier today.