Two Boxes for the shelter
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|Tue, 04-15-2008 - 9:16pm|
I don't know if this counts as "a journey towards healing." It's a hurdle.. and I don't know that I feel any more healed. I'm feeling sad. I'm also realizing that this much has taken me more than 6 years to do. Six years to pack 2 boxes. There's so much more. Nobody would understand what it's been like just to do two.
So many other things have expired over the years. Meds, needles, food... things that I'd meant to send but couldn't bring myself to. A box full of lactated ringers. They were good for a long time, but not long enough for me to be able to send stuff. I wanted to be able to give things to those who could use them. People like me. but I couldnt' cope.
two boxes. It's only two boxes. and I had to stop. and the boxes have been packed for several years. But they didn't get out the door. This is the stuff I'd already packed! Now re-packed again. There's so much in the "not even close to packing it EVER" category.
I wish somebody knew how much this is killing me. I wish somebody knew how hard its been. Years pass and I'm not all right. I make steps. Small very very small steps. and then I have to stop. Or I'll end my life. literally. So I stop. for now.
I've stayed away from making new human friends. They'll die too. My choice. One that generally I'm glad about. I have people in my life who are ok. but not that I'd choose to really be friends with. Acquaintances. Many with traits that, in the past, would cause me to never talk to any of them. People who are bigots, or hostile, or dishonest. None directed towards me but I wouldn't be friends with people like that before. now, for distraction, since there is no one else -by choice- why not. If any of them die, it would be sad. I'd miss their presence. But not like this. Never ever like this. I don't ever want to feel like this again. Not ever. It's worth it to me to be isolated for the rest of my life if it means never feeling this ever again.
But it doesn't make the old pain go away. I still keep feeling that. and there are times like now, when it'd be really great if I did have a friend who would help with the strength to make this easier. In a few months I'll have "recovered" from packing these two boxes. I don't know how long it'll be before I do more. I want to be done with them but it's dangerous for me to push myself. the memories are overwhelming. and nobody would understand. People who come over always comment about items they see. the boxes packed that never move. That if I do a little it means I can keep going, or they ask when I'm getting rid of things that they still see. I won't print here what I want to say to them.
this really isn't an end to this post but I have to stop for now. i'm dizzy and I feel sick. and I really realy realy really really wish I was dead. this is what will happen every time I do this. I"ll never have an easier time with it. there will never be anyone (emotionally) to help me do it better. it's not going to be ok. this is my life. for as long as it will last now.
again, i know it's not a great end to this post but I'm going to stop here anyway. thank you, all, for reading.