ASKING FOR HELP

“Write hard and clear about what hurts” – Hemingway

I feel small. I want big hands to hold me. Arms to wrap around me. A gentle hug. A blanket. A warm cup of tea. Some soup. Some kindness. Compassion.

I have to give it to myself. DO it for me. No one else will. Or maybe I don’t let people give it to me.

At the least, I sure as hell am not going to ask for it.

I learned something about helping people from this experience. Don’t ask them if they want the help. Just help them.

Because I will always say, “No, I am fine. I can handle it.”

But damn, how much did I need someone here, just to be here, without me having to ask.

My body hurts.

I am not giving it time to rest.

I look like shit

My face is still puffy from anesthesia. My belly is swollen. Everything aches deep inside. It hurts to walk, sit, stand too long. I want to lay down, but I can’t stay down.

I just sang my daughter to sleep.

I love her more than life itself.

My new thing-

Is that thought helpful?

I am reading about ACT, and it’s helpful.

I just took a narcotic.

God willing, I will sleep tonight.

I should say, Codeine willing, I will sleep tonight.

Last night, not so much.

I read National Geographic at 3 am.

 

THE TRUTH IS:

I WANT TO BE WITH SOMEONE I CAN HAVE MORNING SEX WITH.

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