Thursday, November 1, 2012

"No Matter How Much I May Personally, Utterly Despise It, My Circumstance Necessitated That I Beg"


“No Matter How Much I May Personally, Utterly Despise It, My Circumstance Necessitated That I Beg”

 

 

11/01/12

 

 

To my very, very dearest friends, and always comforting readers,

 

The other day, while typing steadily on, ‘Part II of, “To Sleep, Perchance To Dream”, it suddenly hit me that I had written fourteen pages of absolute shit; the topic—addressed was, ‘mattresses’, for Heaven sakes.

 

Who-in-Hell wants to, or needs to read that crap, when—certainly—there are so many other more serious, and more pressing matters that could be attended to?

 

What struck me was that I—to an increasing degree—had lost my direction, my sense of focus, my sense of purpose.

 

Almost from the beginning—in using my, ‘diary’ at MDJunction--I tried to find an ever-agreeable voice that might in some, small way prove to be of help to you, my dear readers, in a way that was both informative and entertaining.

 

They have been an exercise in expression, using exposition, poems, sometimes requesting that you—the reader--participate with, ‘entries’, of your own in the comment section.

 

And again, my very dearest friends, I would be lying to you if I did not admit to my wanting to write for an audience, especially after having begun entries at MDJunction to an ever-kind, and caring audience I found there.

 

I must first tell you just how very grateful I am to you for your having befriended me, and for your most wonderful support and encouragement.  And of how very much I love you for it!

 

Even when my supposed, ‘exposition’, turned out to be nothing so much more than a, ‘rant’.  Always your patience and kindness moves my heart, and I feel a very large debt of gratitude to you for reading my diary entries with admirable regularity, your continuing to, ‘abide’, with me through times that are unbearably difficult, and for your patience in, ‘slogging-through’, doubtless tedious and overlong, “series pieces”, combined with my lamentable, ‘wordiness’, tangentially, and my often inability to state a point, without your having to pack a cooler full of food, and several, ‘overnight bags’, just to make it all the way through ‘til the end.

 

I don’t even think that I—personally--have the attention span needed to read my own entries; certainly, a greater effort is now needed just to proof read my stuff.  Which in itself is probably a very good reason to try to keep it brief.

 

If ever you have read my profile—here at MDJunction—you will get a glimpse of what I must try to endure daily.

 

There NEVER is a time without illness(es), never a moment without depression or despair, never a second without pain.

 

Rarely do my entries, ‘write themselves’, having been truly, ‘smitten’, by whatever Muse is conveniently available.  The greatest number of entries require hours (sometimes, days!) of thought, and—including corrections, deletions, and just, ‘moving’, things around, an entry may take me five or six hours to write, and that’s with a firm theme in mind.

 

Certain elements of my personal situation have changed, with my becoming less and less able to manage, and to, ‘cope’, with them.

 

‘Which straw—however small—serves to break the camel’s back?’

 

I realized that I have too-often bitched to you—my dearest friends—about my, S.S.D.I, having long-ago become insufficient to my, ‘needs’, never mind my, ‘comfort’.

 

And while we—my dear friends—share many of the same concerns, I am both delighted, and in some awe of just how you manage to endure.

 

I completely admire your common sense, your bravery, your strength, and your ability to, ‘cope’, in general.  For surely you have pain too; surely you often feel depressed; sometimes, you must do without, yet do so, without ranting and raving.

 

And so—in addition to everything I must endure every hour of every day—other, ‘sneaky’, problems come to the fore. To perhaps save time (and with—of course—your most kind permission), I will, ‘list’, a few, in no certain order of significant impact:

 

1)           My, ‘global’, sense of pain seems to be on the upswing, necessitating my more, and more frequent use of, ‘pain’, medications.

2)           Weekly…about four nights of exhausting, broken, pain-filled, nightmare sleep, so that I wake up tired and hurting, and—frankly—all I would like to do is just to, ‘dose up’ (however much THAT means!), and stay in bed to the exclusion of all other pursuits. And while this will sound dramatic and self-serving, more often—now—I just want to sleep, and sleep, and sleep…not particularly caring whether I wake or not.

3)           Daisy.  As you may already be aware, her Vet, Dr. Weston, had some months ago diagnosed that Daisy was in a definite state of, ‘decline’.  On about November 17th, Daisy—whom I love with all my heart—will be thirteen years old (not counting her age when she first, ‘adopted’, my late mother and me!). Since this last June, we have had a number of very close calls, necessitating that Dr. Weston come out to the house to examine the, ‘Daister’.  Over the past three days—now—Daisy has neglected both her food, and water bowl, even though—on Tuesday—I cooked a pound of ground beef to mix with her dog food, hoping to appeal to her appetite.  I am now having to give her her medication—myself—using a, ‘needleless’, syringe.  She has become very, very quiet, and I dose her up primarily to ease her pain, and to tranquilize her discomfort and agitation.  I am already in so much credit card debt—now—from Dr. Weston’s visits, medication, medication, and refill after refill for Daisy, that I can’t pay it off now.  My only recourse is to try to mitigate Daisy’s pain…until—I suppose—comes the morning when I awake to find her dead.

4)           Credit card debt up to my eyebrows, when—just a few months ago—I very nearly had the balance paid in full.

5)           Since the very few friends I actually have, ‘real time’, are so far away as to be the stuff of memories, I find I do rely on you, my very dearest friends at MDJ for the kind of wonderful, caring comfort that you have been!

6)           My, ‘across-the-street’, neighbor has been violently ill this past week-and-a-half, and with her understandably spending as much time as she can with her father (who is ill with cancer, and not doing well on chemotherapy), and trying to run a, ‘house-cleaning’ business as well as attending to the needs of her own family, she never can predict when she might be able to go to the grocery store.

And so—despite the fact that the grocery store manager told me that they7 could no longer, ‘shop’, for me, or deliver groceries to my house—I HAD no choice but to call the store manager, and to…beg that they somehow make an exception as I was running out of so many things.

7)           I have, ‘non-ad valorem’, property taxes due by the end of December—I believe.

8)           My driver’s license will expire this January.  Could it simply be renewed by mail?  Hell no.  What with all the panjandrums involving, “Home Security”, I would have to find someone to take me to the nearest D.M.V. And it gets better!

 

In addition to having to bring-along all kinds of photo-I.D.s, S.S. cards, etc., they NOW want a recent passport, OR, a copy of one’s birth certificate.

 

I was born in France to an American mother and father; consequently—somewhere—I have a French birth certificate, and an old, faded Xerox copy of the citizenship papers I signed when I was thirteen.  So in order to prove that I am—indeed—a citizen of this great Country, I had to—this morning—telephone the Department of State, to have the appropriate forms sent to me.  The cost…guess what?, $345.00!  Just to get my damn, driver’s license renewed.

9)           In addition to, ‘Lupus-rage’, ‘Fibro-flare’, and a wearying, ‘mind fog’, that bewilders thought, makes me very easily upset, and—along with the effects of all the medications I MUST take—makes me so completely forgetful that—often—when dialing a telephone number, I quite forget exactly who it is I am calling, and desperately hope that I can recognize their voices, or that, somehow, my, ‘caller I.D.’, will give me sufficient hint.

10)    Even though I was, ‘seen’, by my Shrink two days ago, I find that I am sinking into a depressive cycle I cannot see an end to.  And…you might know, my dearest friends, that I have recently begun to have panic attacks again…some real, ‘doozies’, so that  I am now taking extra anti-anxiety medication, in addition to, ‘eating’, pain pills.

11)   What I perceive as a marked increase in stress, or, ‘shit-karma’, if you prefer, my appetite—along with dear Daisy’s—is practically nonexistent.  I’m lucky if I feel like food twice a day, and then take not enjoyment from it; eating then becomes mechanical, something that has to be done and gotten over with.

12)    And, we are fast-approaching four holidays that always depress me: Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, and…dammit, my birthday.

13)   Of course, the house is a pig-sty; the kitchen is a complete, ‘train wreck’, the bathroom sink is clogged, well-beyond the frequent applications of, “Liquid PlumR”, and I have the suspicions of a new, little family of roaches around the bathtub!

 

Often in the very, very, ‘wee’ hours of a morning, I have plenty of occasion to ponder the, ‘Fate Of Nations, And Of Man’, and—really—cannot come up with anything useful that might improve either Daisy’s or my condition.

 

Happiness, it would seem, decendeth from the Heavens by random micro-drops.

 

At the prime age of fifty-eight (soon to be fifty-nine!), this is categorically in NO way what I would have imagined my current life would be.  Maybe I asked for too much; maybe I wasn’t thankful-enough.  Maybe my prayers have been as, ‘wish lists’, whiningly offered-up to a God who otherwise has His hands full!

 

What I perhaps, ‘need’, most to do is to step back, step down, and step away in an attempt to try to find purpose and meaning.

 

And so…among other things, I am thinking of taking a little, much-needed vacation from writing diary entries. Oh…I will still write them from time to time, but—frankly—if I cannot be pleasant, I might as well be quiet.  And certainly less of an annoyance!

 

The plight of the victims of, ‘Hurricane Sandy’, does seem to make of my meager complaints small potatoes, indeed.

 

I thank you so much for allowing me to, ‘rant’, on and on today, and hope you will continue to read my diary entries, as your kindness, support, and encouragement have always made my heart happy!

 

I think of you so very often, and ever want you to be safe, well, and…happy!

 

And, please, please always know that I love you dearly!
 
'Zahc'/Charles