Dear healthy friend and/ or family member who responded with a big, “I’m so sorry” or “That’s just so sad!”, or whatever kind of sympathetic dismissive words toy chose when I informed you of my cellulitis that’s now in my lymphatic system:
Sympathy isn’t something I really want, or need. I was more sharing what went on so you could understand. I know it’s weird and stuff for you, but it’s almost normal for me. Scary, for sure. Don’t get me wrong. A terribly awful day… But it’s nothing I haven’t been through and won’t go through again. I’ve lost so much weight the last month, and gone down two pants sizes. I’ve barely been out of bed, and come to find out my feeling like I was dying is because… I really was. Not because I’m dramatic, or want attention. What a concept.
I need more understanding and less good thoughts. I need more help and less prayers. I need more love and less hopes and wishes of me getting well. Good vibes are great and all, but good vibes don’t clean my shower of bacteria. Or do my laundry I can’t keep up on.
Be realistic. I’m going to be ok this time around, but what about the one time I’m NOT going to be ok?
How much will you regret not being there for me? Because if the roles were reversed, and I were still healthy, I’d be there for you. You damn well know it.
I’ve been there for so many of you. Even in my sickness and health. I’ve been sick since 2011. Have I been there for you in any way shape or form since then? I’ll always be here for you, whatever you need. If I’m capable, you got it. That’s just the person I am. Even now! Can you please do the same for me? I’m in so much need right now. So much pain. I’m actually falling apart, from my insides to my skin. Literally, there’s holes in every bit of me.
Sincerely and utterly desperately broken,