I am so hurt, so broken, so sad, so beaten up, so abused, so lacking and so in mourning.An idiot neighbor attacked
me, fighting over the laundry room. I stopped her from starting her wash, telling her i had clothes in the dryer, and strapped to my body was my next pile of laundry to dry. I removed the dry, put in the wet and as i began to fold thedry she went off on me. And to tell the truth. I on her, as the rules are only one person to the closet sized
wash room at a time... She was annoyed at me folding, but as washing takes less time than drying--- there was no way for her to finish anything until i wadone anyway. We got into it until i remembered that i was not short, but in a wheel chair. This sudden recognition depressed me and I snatched up the unfolde clothes piling them on my lap
and wheeled into my apartment--- which is right across from the laundry room. Hers. too is on this floor, so yes she could have marked her claim to the washing machine and retreated to let me just fold and fishi in peace, but no.
So I arose early, ate early did my ablution early early so that when the knock on the door to change the locks came, i would not wirthe and roll back and forth, I would not be stressed or rushed, but gusee what--- they won't be doing the locks today as we ere notified they would be, and I don't trust them nor want them owrking on the door locks
when I am not here.
This is not paranoia as the lock change is occasioned by the losss of the master keys and further, the office door
being left unlocked subsequent to that..... and remembering how in the past, they just opened the door on me twice, while i lay in bed undressed... see I thought this was America and that people couldn't just enter you space unannounced....
but no if you are disabbled, not if you are cripple, not if you are handicapped... for me this is no differently abled, this is jacked up, this is pain and humiliation
YET YET YET o Lord, I have been rescued and rescued and rescued for that RESCUE and to my RESCUERS all I
give Thanks and PRAISE for hearing my abject need and responding to it... especailly as it did not come from anyplace expected or even imagined and it has been terrific and kept me from killing myself as I did consider last year as I went hungry and worried and was hurt again and again and abused by the medical establishment o thank you Lord for that part being over... the pharmacy that wouldn't ever set a time for delivery thank you for freeing me from their meds! And the MONSTERS at Visiting Nurse Service at Rochester, that stole money and time from my care that I had to pay for and treated me horribly, o what hell that was, deriding and chiding me for asking for the aid who worked, calling her and having ten minute conversations with her while she was working with and on me... and through all that working and working, puttin in all thos UNPAID hours, trying to move things forward, only to be abused and exploited by my boss.....
and the shock of it all, to enbcounter this monstrousness at this stage in life. to hold the shimmering dream of what I aimed for--multiple careers, family, community and worked for and achieved, to have it all dismantled and
derided and denied....
Lord di I need these lessons? Didn't I work hard, get three dgrees, put in 60 to 80 work weeks, love and marry, and love again, want babies, create a home, devote myself to my art, to organizing, to human rights, to being
good and not turning on my brethren or sistren for the coporate tokens. And maybe yes, this is what has spared me total and abject destruction, maybe that is what has enabled rescue. But still I yearn for what I had-- moblity , the ability to plantm y garden and mail my letters walking up the hill to the post office, to go and see my family... o please let me walk again so i can see my father before he forgets me totally... he only remebers me a little,
I am a reflex, and he tells me everytime we talk "To thine Own Self Be True". I tell him the stories he told me and rhen he remembers protecting the store, selling applesl, how Flrrie was the rough parent, she might take a broom stick to someone. I love my father so much. I am so much his creature and my mothers and I feel in this frailty I fail their great bright dream. And i want to help with him, spell his wife and take care of him because he was such a great and tender caretaker. O god! He was so good with me as a teenager, as I suffered my periods, he understood.
He knew I inherited my shyness from him along with my hayfever and flat feet. He kept my mother and I connected and relating until I fell in love with her again. He didn't mess up at all at all until my divorce, which is probably why it bothered me so much....
Anyway the blessing of his huge love and understanding is another reason I haven't offed myself. HE worked too damn hard for me to toss this away and he survived Korea nad Harlem and th post office to create his blue heaven....
The radio was playing song for my Father, by the way, which i started sining, so i left my stupid lament to at least mourn and yearn for something wonderful, to sit with my Daddy- O again.