Empty gestures

 

The wheels begin to spin again and decisions are made. Life turns from existence to living.

Just a couple decisions – the morphine and the shiny new liver have sparked an interest in living that I haven’t felt for foar too long. Even with the Kickstarter campaign, I knew that it was just a unsurmountable dream but it was a good dream and I fought like hell but here’s the secret:

A few weeks before I launched, I had already started making plans in my mind for someone to take care of Ruby. I had/have a shitload of morphine saved up, and it would have been an easy death – and with the failure of the campaign (as much as I didn’t want it to) maybe the people I call chosen in my life would finally understand. Understand how much that meant to me. MEANS to me.

But life goes on, and I needed a new one – and the only way I could figure out how to make the changes I needed to were through immense pain. ARE through that pain.

I have things I need to do so I can believe that this life means something again, and those things will happen.

Interesting that just the thought of a drastic change makes me smile more, makes me want to live. More.

I still have a lot to do – and one thing is accepting that those whosay they love me, adore me, will support me – are and have been only speaking with the money I needed & still need for the herbs that keep me alive.

They were wonderful, and I am grateful for what they did to help me – but I see much more clear than most give me credit for, and while they offered cash, I still wasn’t worth their time.

All I wanted was some face to face time over a meal or even coffee – and with very few exceptions, they were never there for that – as much as I begged,  pleaded, and trusted.

Yeah, you’re family alright – the same kind of family that raised me, but never visited me in the hospice. The same kind of family that talked about love but never showed it…

I think of a friend who blathered on about how much more he wishes he could have done, but when the most important part of my life – the campaign – came aboutl he was silent, asn didn’t donate a dollar. This is a ,am who saved my life, but he was nowhere around when this new life needed to be saved… and of course there are others…

Now it is entirely me. I will not beg for the herbs that keep me alive anymore, and deal with it because I need to. I will never ask t be kept alive by your hand again.

Thankfully, there are three people who help without asking and those I appreciate and trust. I *might* be able to make it – or I may not, and die while waiting for a liver transplant… nut I will not ask for your financial help again – and I know better now than to simply sit across a cup of coffee with you.

You have shown me who you are.

Not long ago I was reminded what a true friend is.

The wheels spin, and changes will be made. I am not alone anymore.

I’’m hoping that the next post wpm

T ne so much of the rant that this grew into = but I son’t hide anything. Those who read deserve all honesty.

 

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