I lost my mother in 2012. She had had alzheimer's disease. It was a malicious disease and the watch and wait robbed me of joy for many years prior, and obviously since.
In 2013 I was diagnosed with cancer, lymphoma. During the chemo I was afflicted with an intravenous staph infection that nearly killed me, and phlebitis. I was hospitalized and had two surgeries that weren't, altogether, successful. My wife saved my life during this event. The staph came very close to killing me, and she believed I was more sick than just chemo aftermath sick.
In 2014 I beat cancer. It was odd though, my flesh was exhausted, and my outlook, which had been warrior-like, didn't change upon beating the cancer. In May I was finished with the treatments. But in August I learned that a person I love deeply committed suicide. Along with a number of people who chose to attack me now that I was "healed" or safe to fight with, I went into a deep deep depression that was perhaps the worst I ever experienced.
2015 is almost over. I just came out of a year long depression. People who supported me in my cancer treatment are still here, and there are a vast number of people who were called friends, who really were not. I guess it is good to arrive through to the other end of the tunnel of naivety. I thought that being generous and forgiving would make friends last forever. But as I've arrived at this older and wiser state I've found that many people are self interested, self centered, and lack depth. Don't think this is an indictment on humanity. I received kind gifts of money, food, and support across the web, and this came from many sources, including people I had never met. When friends of 30 years or more can't be bothered to check in on you, but strangers can, that tells you something real.
Now, I am NOT talking about family. I was in a state, for example, in hospital, where I did not want and nor could I have visitors. Mine would have showed up without a moment pause. But, truly, the staph infection made me miserable and visitors were limited due to my being vulnerable to infection.
I was trapped by illness. I was scourged by sorrow. I was wounded by life. I was limited by fear. But now, the gate is open, and I've escaped. And no one is taking me back in.
Who am I now? One month from 2016? I don't altogether know. I know who I won't work with, that list has one person on it. I know I need to finish 4 big projects soon, despite distant deadlines, the co-creatives are all handing in their work. I hate being the slacker. My writing is improving, I promise. Writing is my love, along with family, friends and my beloved cats, Sophia and the brilliant ninja cat Katya.
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