I read Me and Ophelia today with stunned respect -- for the courage of disclosure; for the easing of my own pain, through recognition; through affiliation -- unchosen, to be sure, but there nonetheless. Her openness has eased my solitude, and I am grateful for that.
The imprisonment of long term chronic illness and loneliness is getting to me these past few days. I shall be glad when it is all over. Christmas I mean. I think. Although I wouldn't be at all disappointed if I went to sleep and never woke up again. I am always very grateful and appreciative of people's kindness and all the help I am given. But at times it does not seem worth it. Solitary confinement is no kind of life at all. My battle is unknown. There is no treatment or cure. They put animals down for lesser suffering. At least I have Ophelia to keep me company. If only she could speak ...
Following her example, I am posting a late-night ramble written sometime in the past few days (I actually don't remember when.) But I am putting it below the cut: