I’m not f’ing stupid. Just because my body might be all confused as to what it’s supposed to do right now, doesn’t mean that my mind is frazzled. I know an evil plot when I see it, and this has “Evil” & “Plot” written all over it. Just a few short months ago, I was all warm and toasty in my misery and silence, wallowing up to my neck in woe-is-me swamp, and quite happy that no one ever called or emailed to ask how I was doing so I could stay there – after all, I must have written at least a line or two somewhere in my blog vaguely mentioning what I am & had been going through, and if you didn’t pick up on it, it’s your fault, not mine — so I had every right to question if there was anyone out there who cared at all, besides my Dr. and maybe one of the very few people I thought I could consider a friend… But then my Doctor screwed everything up and decided to put me into a respite/hospice care facility in hopes that it would help my health, and then, to screw with my self pity even more, Bobzilla goes and announces that I’m sick, in bad shape & i a care facility. On Facebook no less, the bastard… Then, the hordes came. People I hadn’t seen or heard from in years, people that have the nerve to call themselves my friend – and I tried to loathe you, to wonder where you had been when I really needed you, freezing, dirty, falling apart in my motorhome – and I tried, tried to hate you – through your beautiful words of support, your visits, your well wishes, your seemingly sincere caring… I didn’t have a chance. You ripped the loathing away and replaced it with love, appreciation, and yes, sometimes tears. I realized what a fool I had been, what an idiot I was acting like. You see – I hadn’t tried to contact you either. Perhaps it was my feminine side coming through, and I expected you to read my mind (ducks) but no, I didn;t contact you, so how could you know? .
I’m not good at saying thank you, though I have said it more times than I can count – to the point where those two words don’t make sense anymore. I’ve written it in big capital letters, in different colors, and in as many ways that I could come up with until I had run out of ways to say it…
…so there is nothing left to do but show you how much I appreciate you all by continuing to live long enough until all of my “pay it forward” debts are taken care of, and at this rate, I’ll need to somehow add another 80 years or so to my life – and I definitely need to get on the road.
See what I mean?
No rest, no finally figuring out what lays behind door number death and satisfying my curiosity, all I can do is keep fighting like hell for my health and do something which at least is much easier than figuring out new ways to say thank you, and get incredibly creative in giving, helping, and all of the things that come so much more naturally to me than saying thank you.
To all of you with your support, caring, beautiful words and far too many things to name, you suck… and I love you. Thank you, so very, very much, from the bottom of my heart.
From all of this however, I did learn a valuable lesson – a simple one to follow through on.
Call people. Check in with people. People you haven’t heard from in years, or even taking the time to really find out about the people you see every day. Listen. Shut up, and listen to them.
Email them. Call. Send smoke signals, anything. I didn’t, and I ended up getting more and more upset with you for not contacting me – and that’s just straight up bullshit.
I’m tired now, posting this without reading it (as usual) so I hope it has at least some linear flow, and makes the tiniest bit of sense. If not, ask someone else to explain it to you – I have some getting healthy to do.