Lately when I encounter new people I say straight away that I’m deaf and apologise if I ignore them or seem rude. The funny thing is that every single person I’ve said this to has gone on to talk to me. Probably saying something like ‘it’s okay, I understand’. But I can’t hear them so I just smile. Sometimes if I have a notebook handy I’ll pass it to them and get them to write it down.

I’m getting better at understanding mime. Weasel is particularly adept. For years we talked about taking sign language. We both find it fascinating and we thought it would be a fun way to talk to each other in plain sight. Especially since I love talking about people around us and she’s always worried that they’ll hear. I wish now that I had pursued it more aggressively, I went as far as looking up the dates, times and prices and meaning to show them to Weasel for her thoughts but that was it. I wish I’d followed through. We will still do it – we’re both still interested; I just wish I’d known that I might need it some day.

This has made me think a lot about people who are permanently deaf. How do they cope with people who try to talk to them even after learning that they’re deaf? Do they just stick with friends and family who know about the deafness, know sign language or have notebooks to hand? Simple things like the doorbell or telephone become challenges. The timer for the bread or oven, the humidifier letting me know it is out of water – all of these are indicated with beeps and rings. What about smoke alarms and carbon monoxide monitors?

And god the music. I miss music. I hear songs in my head all the time, my pulse often sets the beat and picks the song. How can people live without music?

I invited Weasel to watch a film with me on Sunday and she selected Serenity. We put it in and I pushed my subtitles button as usual and it didn’t work. I assumed the disc didn’t have them. It was disappointing. I felt bad that I was going to ruin this fun thing for her because I couldn’t hear. Thankfully Weasel is a resourceful sort and she read the box and went back to the main menu and selected subtitles from the language menu. We enjoyed the film as usual.

Weasel got a shiny new computer last week, she got all moved in and everything was great then it died. They picked it up yesterday evening and hopefully we’ll have it back no later than Saturday. Thankfully she was able to rescue all her data. I haven’t been using my computer much – just the bare essentials so I’ve handed it over to her for the duration. This actually worked out pretty well for me because I’m using the media server that’s hooked up to the TV instead. I’m not able to wear my glasses/contacts so having the extra huge font sizes works well, being able to lay down and browse websites is excellent.

If you’ve read Weasel’s website at all, she mentioned that she’s on antidepressants now. This is her first time on them. I started mine today. We’re both fairly depressed and anxious these days. This is my third time taking them. When I was 16 they diagnosed major depression and an anxiety disorder. They put me on a new drug called Paxil. It later turned out that Paxil wasn’t good for children and it also increased suicidal tendencies. After I nearly killed myself in 1997, they switched my drugs and I improved. I stayed on the antidepressants until 1999. I weaned myself off them after I moved to the UK.

In 2004 I was having trouble with my job, our noisy downstairs neighbour and a complete lack of fun in my life. This time it was minor depression, but the anxiety was still there. I stayed on the antidepressants for eight months. This time I thought I’d dodged the depression bullet and went straight for the anxiety, but having talked with the doctor yesterday it seems not. She drew several circles: ‘Guilt’, ‘Frustration’, ‘Pain’ and ‘Anxiety’. In the centre where they all overlapped she wrote ‘Depression’. So although I don’t feel depressed as such, the accumulation of all of this leads to it. I expect that depression is going to be something that shows up periodically throughout my life. I hope that I get better at dealing with it every time.

I’ve been very weepy for the last month. I presumed it was exhaustion, frustration and general illness. I’m thinking that I might have wanted it to be those things so I couldn’t deny the depression a little longer. I don’t like being depressed. I don’t like how my Mom behaves when she knows I’m depressed.

I miss having plans. Making plans. Planning the next visit with the boy. Anniversaries. Birthdays. Christmas. I’ve hesitated on all these fronts because I don’t know how I’ll be doing in two weeks or even tomorrow. I have to have a blood test tomorrow. They’ve got me continuing with my Wegener’s treatment for at least another two weeks [steroids and immune system suppression]. I have my next hospital appointment on the 16th. In theory I have to be back at work on the 15th. I’m not sure how that’s going to work. I’m trying not to think about it because it stresses me out.

I keep telling myself that things will get better, I just have to wait. I remind myself that I nearly died October 1997 and I met Weasel in January 1998. Four months for my world to change beyond recognition. I’ve also decided that we’re totally stockpiling some serious karma here and the pay-off will be awesome.