It has been so long since I have written here. I have had a myriad of things that have happened and things that I have experienced that I have needed space to think about. Even from you, Dearest Journal, I have needed to find refuge for the things that have been plaguing my mind, body and soul since the surgery.

 

Some have called me a liar. Not believing the things that I have gone through the last 8 months.  Some have even made it clear that it is far easier believing that I am making things up simply for attention. I have since posted the pictures of how I was gutted like a fish, from pubic bone to top of my belly button, to extract the parasitic flesh from my own flesh. But I suppose by some weird chance of imagination that I would have orchestrated even the surgery and scar myself to prove it.

I have been so lost, for so long. Now that I am recovering nicely and my wound is hardly paining me as it has previously, I feel I am ready to start over. My body has gone through some rough changes. Some have been harder than others, but nevertheless I am steadfast at trying to be better. Not only in the physical but in the mental area as well.

I am scared. I am scared to the point of giving up and becoming like most around me here in this house. Uncaring and undignified to want to be more than just a lump of a person who collects a check every month and has no life. However, at the moment I am lumpy. Not to be confused though as wanting this to be this way forever.

I am unsure of what is ahead for me, or where I am going. I am sure that I do not want to continue the way life has been for me these last 28 years.
 

Whiskey Leigh Embers