I GIVE UP! I’m throwing in the towel and waving my white flag. It was a great year! Thanks for proving I suck at doing life! Thanks for being a part of it! Maybe 2015 will kill my dog and strip me of my right to stay alive.
I went to the Walmart yesterday in the morning to do some unnecessary shopping. I got into one of the self-service cashier stations. As I gathered my things and the machine spits out my change I drop a dime. I guess the cashier manning the self-service machines saw and proceeded to help me. Without warning she goes underneath my wheelchair just for a dime. I could feel my body and jaw start to tense, my throat start to close and I quickly tell her ” I got it, thanks” and then she says under her breath ” OK I thought I would help.” and this is not the only time something like this has happened to me. On another occasion I was paying my bills at a grocery store, and was trapped between two people. One of them grabbed on to my chair and without warning started to back me out of the space. I quickly put on my breaks and once again say I GOT IT! he was a little nicer than the Walmart girl. And finally, This one also takes place at a grocery store. I was paying my bills and doing a little grocery shopping. As I was maneuvering with my left hand and shoving receipts and wallet in my back pack with my right hand somebody from behind takes them out of my hand and then I hear this voice say to me “Here, honey let me help you with that.” That launched me into a full blown panic attack because she came to me from behind. I have a system, maneuver with the left, shove the right, I ended up calling my sister because she knows how to calm me down and I had temporarily forgotten why I was there in the first place. As I was regaining my composure and with the help of my sister on the phone I successfully finished my shopping.
I don’t mind help every once in a while but I have experienced “help” that either someone has knocked me down or has done some type of damage to my wheelchair. All of my life people are constantly wanting to help me because they are under the notion that because I’m physically disable I must need a lot of help which is not entirely true. I always appreciate excellent help especially when reaching stuff off the top shelves. What I don’t like is people helping me without asking if I actually need it.
Last night a very important part of my life passed on, my best friend. He was 17 years old and was a beautiful little stray cat that was given to me by a friend of my friend.
But this was no ordinary cat. He was unique. He was black, hairy and had the most perfect brilliant yellow eyes I had ever seen on any creature. He opened cabinet doors because he knew that’s where his food was and like any escape artist he figured out how to open windows and doors. He played hide’n’seek and was excited when I got him his first toys ever ;as a matter of fact, he didn’t know what to play with first.
When I got my first apartment I really didn’t plan on a pet much less a cat. I didn’t really like cats.
A dear friend of mine came over one day and fed me a sob story about how her friend had to give his cats away because he could no longer afford them and how he found this other cat and I knew where this was going. Immediately stopped her, said “no no no.” She begged and pleaded and finally said “come on just look at him.” “he’s a kitten.” So I said “fine bring IT over.” The next day she comes over and hands me this panther. I say to her “this is not a kitten this is a lion” and she starts laughing but I couldn’t resist I was in love.
He was beautiful, smart and was my comforter. Some how he just knew when I was sad or happy. He was my friend, allied and keeper of my deepest, darkest and most evil secrets. He would stay with me until I fell asleep and would wake me up with a slap in the face because he was hungry. He would wait for me at the door until I came home from work and then cuddled while I napped. He loved to hear me read out loud while I worked and was the only living being that knew I wasn’t tone deaf because I sing out loud while I paint. His favorite snack were waffles and always knew when we were going to have wafffles for breakfast.He loved listening to Lacuna Coil, Killswitch Engage with Howard Jones and loved Josh Groban. I remember this one time my sister and I were watching a Josh Groban concert on PBS and he stopped his routine rampage just to watch him in concert. His little ears stood straight and his little eyes just stared at the television like he was in a trance. I will never forget his crazy little rampages and his soft little meowing either asking for attention or food.We have been through a lot together. From broken relationships and broken hearts to ill relatives. Through three apartments plus a living arrangement with some friends to having to put up with a dog.We have been through it all. I love you Baby Panther and I will miss you. You were sent to me for a reason.You made me the happiest person alive and made life so much easier to live.But now it is time for you to go and I will just have to accept it. I’m never going to forget your fuzzy little face and that cute little nose.I love you forever.
Pantera – Suicide Note Pt. I + Lyrics (HD): http://youtu.be/vtys0BwT0R0
” Would you look at me now? Can you tell I’m a man? With these scars on my wrist to prove I’ll try again.”
This woman that I knew of, she was from my home town. She committed suicide. I’ve been thinking about her all day. I even prayed my rosary in her honor. She had fives kids. She had everything; house, car and even a couple of motorcycles. She looked so well put together all the time and yet she chose to end it all. I wonder what was going through her head when she did it? Which means that even someone who has it all can soccum to suicide. I have been in deep thought lately. I’ve had a very stressful and disappointing year. I won’t go into any details but it leaves me to question my own existence and purpose on this earth. Will I be missed if I were to actually do it? What kind of impact or influence do I have on people’s lives? Am I somebody’s friend or their token/”charity case” to get in good with God? Does somebody love me? What is stopping me from killing myself?
….That moment when you see somebody sleeping comfortably in a chair and wishing you were them.