The person who said that to me, tells like how it is. I respect and appreciate her for all she is.
One day, things got sour with us, because she thought I found other interest and I was no where to be found. She was right. I was gone from everyone and there is no excuse.
I thought I was there for people that needed me, and mostly, I am. But although I wanted so bad to be there for her, I couldn't. I never quite figured out how to be there for her, ever. She tells me that I keep hurting her, and I've distanced myself from her, because if who I am hurts her, then she's better off with me staying away. And no, I don't think it's a cop out.
This thing I write, yes, it does revolve around me. This is here for me to write my thoughts, and it's your choice to read it or not. My Space, My Blog, and my thoughts, and my piece. Please try to understand that this is my own little space to be connected with who I am.
I took about 2 months off from writing this, because quite honestly, I didn't make the time. If I don't make time for myself, I lose sense of who I am, and I won't be able to do and to be anything for anyone else, and that's not who I am.
So here it is, my thought for the day.
I was hanging out in the front door of my school. The computer system that controls metal detectors and attendance was going haywire. I corrected the problem, and I walked outside the door for some cool air.
I saw group of my students surrounding something and I wanted to see what was going on, so I walked toward them. What I saw was a helpless starved dog, with butt wagging (because the tail was cut off). His ribs were showing, his hips were out of placed, he had some kind of growth on his neck. One kid was petting him and I was going to tell him not to, but then I saw the look in the dog's eyes. Judging by how the dog acted, judging by how starved he was, judging by how he couldn't take care of himself, I'm guessing he once lived with a loving family, and was let go for some reason. Maybe the dog was depressed and seemed lazy, maybe he got irritated easy, maybe he growled at the owners the wrong way, what ever the reason may be, he was abandoned. He looked starved, but more so than the food, he was starved for love. The dog kept following the kid that was petting him, and wanted to walk into the school with him. When the kid stopped petting, he kept nosing into his leg, begging for more love.
We got the dog some food from cafeteria, and we called the animal control. He ate the food like he hasn't been fed in a year. We got him more food and milk. Among the people who were paying attention to the poor little thing, was a lady dressed in nurses' uniform. She waited with the dog, but the animal control never showed up. So she pulled her car and she took the dog to the shelter herself.
The dog was probably suffering from serious tumor growth, and I'm guessing the owner let him out and let go, and abandoned the dog. Who cares what happens to the dog, right? I mean, the dog served it's purpose when he was able. I'm sure they loved him and he loved back. But now he is ill, out he goes. Does this sound familiar? To me, it is. It's way too familiar.
As you know, (those who know me well) the symptoms from my illness surfaced these past few years, and the really ugly part came out within the past year. Yes, I had an illness. Wait, correct that, I have an illness that is totally under control as I type this. No, don't worry, (for those who do not know me well) it's not AIDS, and it's not cancer but if I don't pay attention to it, what I have can be fatal. One in 3 die from it. Yes, it can be serious.
When I was suffering from the symptoms of that illness, I too like the dog, was abandoned. I was told that I should take care of the illness on my own and when I'm well, I may be back into the house. How would you feel if that happened to you? How would you feel if you got let go in time when you need your loved ones the most? How would you feel if your loved ones tell you to beat it because you have a cancer and come back when you're cured?
When the symptoms surfaced, and I was limping, I too like the dog, had many around me to give me love and feed me, But no one wanted to take me into their house. I can't blame any of them. I stunk, and no one knew if i had rabies.
Here is an irony. I was shown the door to get better and maybe be re-accepted, but I couldn't leave until I got better. I wasn't let into anyone's house until I was better and better, I am.
I'm light years away from where I was a year ago.
One of the first things I wrote on myblog, (you have to hit 'older archives' in left of your screen 3 or 4 times to get to it, and you have to be on my preferred list) named 'this is me, all of me', I said something. I declared that my illness was my battle, and I have no one fighting it with me.
I won the battle.
Alone.
I won the battle, but I'm still at war. The war goes on for life, and if I get careless, I get shot between my eyes.
I'm not bitter at those that showed me the door. I'm not bitter at those who turned their backs on me.
Once I learned that my expectations were too great, there was nothing to be bitter about.
I'm not bitter, and I'm no longer disappointed.
I still love the very people that closed the door on me.
If the owner of that dog came by the doggie shelter to take him back, he'd go back happy.
If the people who locked me out unlocks their door on me, you won't find me in their doorstep. I've left and I moved on.
Like that dog, my love is unconditional.
It was my mistake for me to think that other people can love the same way.
