You don't know me...

This one is more for my 3D friends than my online ones... you people who say you're my friends, who call me sister, friend, whatever. Do you even look past the surface? Do you ever see what the makeup and the smile cover?

I sat for 10 minutes and cried on Thursday afternoon, because one of you let me down badly. I know you don't really care, but sometimes, I just have to say something. You claim to be my friend, and you're glad of my help, but you don't have the decency to be upfront with me? Thanks a LOT.

You who come into my house and make the "ewww" face because it's not spotless... how would YOU like to have to take care of it on your own, from a wheelchair? I can't stand or walk long enough to run the vacuum effectively, even... and the place is NOT dirty. It's cluttered, because sometimes I hurt too bad to finish a project, so it sits where I left it. Sometimes the weakness and pain is so much that all I can do is sleep. So... things get left. When I can, I clear some of it. I can't do it all anymore...I get the stuff that has to be taken care of, the rest, well, to whom does it really matter?

I get people all the time saying 'let me know if you need some help'. Sorry, can't do it. I can not beg.  I can not ask. You know what would really be a help? If someone was good enough to OFFER to take me grocery shopping at a time when I actually have some money to spend. You could find that time out by  ASKING me. Really. I have no filters. I'll tell you almost anything. If I think you care. If I don't, you get, "oh yeah, I'm fine".

It'd be nice to get a phone call once in a while. I know most of you have my number. You use it when you need me to help you get some printing done, or something like that...

It'd be nice to have someone say, 'let's do lunch on Monday'... pretty much any Monday, lol....I wouldn't ask you to pay for mine - I'm good with taking care of my own needs. Heck, I'd even pick you up, if you asked me to. Because I also maintain my own vehicle and insurance.

I don't ask much, but I'm tired, SICK and tired, of only being noticed or talked to when I can do something for YOU. Call me once in a while, just to talk. Let's do lunch, or supper, or, with enough prep time, breakfast. That's another thing: It takes me longer, MUCH longer, than it used to, to be able to get up and get out. When I first wake up, it's a tossup whether I get to the bathroom without falling when a leg gives out. My legs are not strong...I'm working on that, but it's not easy. I was doing ok till my right knee, the one that I use to support myself, quit bending. That, if you like, was a fun day. I had to physically pick it up with my hands, to get out of bed. I'm really REALLY glad there isn't much room there, I could use the wall to hop into the bathroom...and whirl to sit, lol... So don't expect me to be awake and ready to go by 8:30. It's not happening. Some nights the pain won't let me sleep till 3 or so in the morning. To be ready to go at 8:30, I'd have to be up at 5, to take the medication that lets me use my hands and legs, wait for it to start working, get a shower (you ever try to shower or bathe when you can't stand up? the barstool is my friend.) and get put together. Sometimes my hair isn't well done...sometimes it's even worse than that. Does it matter? Really?

I came back to Texarkana from Longview because several people said, yeah, come back, we'll be there to help you and make sure you're all right... and... I never hear from them, never see them, unless I'm calling them, or going to their place. I don't really blame you, it's not a lot of fun to hang out with someone that can't get up and run to this or that place - someone who has to take a beat up wheelchair everywhere they go... it's not much fun. For me, either. I only remember the handicap when I try to walk... the rest of me still thinks and acts and wants to be like  I was.

I've spent most of my life doing my best to NOT be the one about whom they say, 'oh god, here she comes...look, I gotta run, I told X I'd meet him at 4'... I didn't do this to myself, you know.  I wasn't hugely fat before my legs gave out, in fact, I'd gotten under 200 pounds for the first time in forever... I try very hard not to be the bitchy sick person who's always complaining. I won't tell you how I really feel, unless I think you care...you'll get "I'm fine! And how are you?" and then I'll listen to you tell me about all your troubles and the things you can't have or do, and who did you wrong and who said something ugly...

Like I said, you don't know me. And you don't appear to want to.