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Tuesday, March 6, 2012

When I was little and lonely, I used to tell myself (ok, now I admit 'kid' myelf) that I would never be lonely again. I have learned  through painful experience that I have to be happy within, happy being alone, happy just being me. When I thought it couldn't get any darker, it did, and when I couldn't go any lower, I did. It has become crystal clear. Love thyself. It is at this point of limbo where I have no idea where my treatment will go next, I feel uncertain.

Walking out on the deck this morning and slipping on the plastic beads that used to fill Cannon's "wildcat" and cutting myself on the "lock pickers" (opened paper clips) while en route to fill the wood boxes (I keep the fire going all day and it keeps the chill out), I nearly burst into tears -- feeling so vulnerable -- how had two smooth talkers so violated my space -- so much for thinking they at least respected #71) it felt like I had been raped (and I have on several occasions). When I returned the call of the one mother who wanted to know why her son was deposited at her doorstep very early Saturday morning -- she accused, first, didn't listen, accused back, and then hung up on me.

I just have to remember "a few of my favorite things"......


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