January 24, 2016

It's been six months since i took a shower.  Daily washing up with a towel at the sink.

Almost 6 months since i had my right leg amputated and watched my life completely be altered.  i've received my new leg three times, but only for a couple of days, because my wound opens up again when i wear it.  i barely leave the house, only for doctors appointments and grocery shopping, usually alone since Devon isn't around too much.  i watch life through Facebook or seated in a chair at the front door.

Getting around the house scooting around in a chair or using my walker.  Even using my walker, i've fallen a couple of times, right on my stump.  i went upstairs recently to look for something.  Lifting myself onto each step on my butt.  When i reached the top, i felt like i had a long workout.

The upstairs is carpeted, so i held onto a chair and slid myself around, walking on my knees.  Going down the stairs was so much easier and faster.

My depression is overwhelming.  i fight the urge to end all this daily.  i realize how very alone i am in this journey.  Devon has been away to China for a month and now in San Francisco, with his family.  Friends?  My neighbor Anne is the only one i hear from and just because she brings the mail over and stays for just a couple of minutes. Otherwise, i hear from no one else unless i make a comment on their Facebook post.

i've been alone much of my life, so you would think i am use to it. But i try being a good friend to others, it just isn't returned.

i leave the TV on 24/7 so i don't have to listen to my own thoughts.  i talk to SADDI, who has been gone for over 6 years. It gives me comfort, but also lets me know my voice still works.

Because i am limited in what i can do, i have gained weight, which isn't good for my diabetes.  i try to work out sitting on the sofa, but i want to walk.  i always loved walking.

With this wound still healing, honestly i don't know when, if, i will walk again.  

i miss life.  Even when i went downtown with no plan or direction, i was never bored or disappointed because i had the freedom to escape.  For six months, i have only escaped by watching others live.

Crying is a part of my day, several times during the day.  Emotionally, i am weaker than i have ever been. When, if, i get my leg back, i doubt think i will ever to be able to bring myself out of this depression.  Loneliness.  

This is my punishment for not taking action years ago to live better.  To treat myself, and others, better.  i have convinced myself that i deserve all this.