Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Please pray for my friend

Ok, first I have to say that if something bigger than me is speeding towards me, like a car, I don't walk in front of it... if I buy a coffee, I am cautious with the first sip... if there is a hole in the sidewalk, I am smart enough to walk around it. Americans kill me with their overabundance of caution, and what logically comes next, their legislation of morality. We treat our populace like a bunch of children, and we are surprised when they act that way... and pissed when they don't. I really can't wait to leave this country. On the other hand, without exception, travelers from other countries remark on how helpful Americans are. How did I get here, and what am I supposed to do?

I'm only writing because I really need to. My friend has lost it. Sunday night she screamed for a couple hours and broke I don't know how many plates. I checked in, only to find her "husband" trying to calm her down, and her youngest son trying to get her to be herself. I left, and didn't intrude for two days. This morning, as I was about to leave for work, she walked out to my truck, wearing only a sheet, to get her puppy. She told me that Sunday night she had taken too many OTC sleep aids, and didn't wake up until then. I went to work after I put her puppy inside for her.

Tonight the apartment was still dark. I knocked, and talked to her sons for a minute. They told me she was still sleeping, and hadn't eaten since Sunday. They agreed to let me buy us all some chinese take-out. My friend sat up long enough to take about four sips of sprite, then was out again for the hour or so that I was there. We ate. Her youngest said he had indeed gone to school. I made sure the puppy ate, and gave him lots of love. Poor guy, I don't think he ate for three days either. Last time I saw him he was puppy fat. Tonight, I could see his ribs. Almost made me cry.

Anyway, I can't blame my friend for losing it. I don't know if I could handle the pressure of having two sons, who've been taken away from me once before, being unemployed, in a foriegn country, with no real friends (except one homeless guy), owing two months rent, and not having enough money to buy three tickets to go home to a place that was full of very bad things the last time I was there, so I don't really even want to go, but if not, how will it feel for me and my two children to live on the street? And I can't get a job because I don't have permission to work, and the only places that will let me work off the books won't hire me because I'm not white or black?

So I can hear voices... some say maybe she needs to lose her kids and her apartment again, maybe she needs to be homeless so she can finally accept the consequences of her decisions... also, maybe I need to help her so I don't lose my cush parking spot... maybe I can be her knight in shining armour... maybe I should get away from this person who is so clearly disturbed...

And do you know what I feel? Calmness and concern. Because I have been there. I know how it feels to prefer to check out rather than suffer the stress of what I have created. But it isn't just what I have created. I mean, yeah, ultimately I create or allow just about everything in my life. But there is also chance. And that is god's pervue. Sometimes, the breaks fall wrong. In her case, she has been blatantly discriminated against, and she is too proud to accept, adapt, and overcome. She doesn't accept that people can be really ugly. She thinks accepting that means she is ugly. Or something like that. She doesn't walk away from bigots, she keeps comming back, ignoring their biggotry. You have to admire that a little, right?

But it has gotten her into a self-imposed coma. But she is out of drugs. I really wish now that I had picked up some weed for her, it would make this a little easier. I guess god will provide what she needs. She has me until noon tomorrow, then I go to work. She has egg drop soup, a sprite, and an egg roll when she wakes up tonight in the middle of the night. I hope she consumes them all and goes back to sleep. Your body needs nourishment and rest after you screw it up with drugs.

And I hope she will hear me when I tell her that I've been in similar spots. And I hope god will speak through me and give her something to hold on to in this life. Some hope.

This woman took me in and gave me a home. I owe her. More than that though, god brought me to this situation. I feel so different now than I did before. I have no desire to use drugs, and I feel very little need for myself. I mean I do get fearful sometimes, but I survived basic training, and I've survived being homeless for four months. And I actually think I have gained three or four pounds. OMG, I'm getting fat again! Just kidding. But I am comfortable, and I don't think I get to be comfortable for very long anymore. I think I have surrendered my life to god, and he takes that seriously. Don't think I have to worry about getting fat. if you are fat, you are thinking about yourself too much. That isn't a put down, it is a suggestion. You don't need as much as you think you do. Get involved with one or two people around you who you don't want to help, and you will be surprised what you learn.

But I digress... my friend is in a coma. I hope she comes out tomorrow, and that I know what to say to her when she does.

I guess that's about all I have to say. I am grateful that my self isn't intruding in my life too much anymore. Only this nagging irritation with my father. Well, what can I do? He is what he is, I am what I am. I guess I should keep trying to accept him, even though he will never accept me. Or maybe I need to try to accept that I will never be accepted by him.. or truly by his family either. Ok, that I think I can deal with. I can still love them even though they will never get me. I just hope karine can get me. God help me please.

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