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Sunday, September 16, 2018

More Than Dirty Laundry

Just over three years ago, this article came out on two sources.


I suppose I should probably address that. The author, Jason F. Wright, warned me of what could happen after he submitted it: people coming out of the woodwork to be both friend and foe; friendly remarks and trolling; people I already know looking at me funny now that they know what happened, and people who simply don't know what to say around me.


And he also said it would be a good time to keep up my blog.


Oopsie.


I kept hemming and hawing and procrastinating and here we are, three years later than I planned. One thing I know I am great at is procrastination; it’s practically a talent. I have some special skills (that I have decided are talents) like sleeping on planes and going on tangents. So before I go on another tangent, I'd like to start off by saying that it wasn't just a messy home and dirty laundry that made me want to stay. Dying of embarrassment, well, that wouldn't have been listed as a cause of death, even if it were true. The documentable reasons would just be a cover up.


And then recently, the story was run again, and it was a reminder that I STILL hadn't written anything for my blog, so seeing that I haven't died of neither documentable and expected causes nor embarrassment, I'm just going to explain a little further.


Those dearest to me already know that the messy home and dirty clothes was definitely a thought that crossed my mind.


But it was a person who was my first thought, and I didn't mention that to Jason for several reasons.


Mainly, it was to protect the person who was foremost in my heart and mind. I didn't want him to be dragged into the messy, semi-public eye, for him to be pressured in any way, shape, or form. Our relationship was new, less than six months along when I had that first heart catheter. Nevertheless it was intense and, as relationships are, messy. And they don't need any additional, avoidable complications. I mean, I went from being a [mostly] normal person to a [mostly] dead person. And all the ick that comes with that can be brutal in a relationship. And the fact that we are no longer together (we weren’t then, and still aren’t now) mattered; I didn't want to bother him with rekindling, in case he or someone we know would find the story and bug him.


(Side note: I'd be lying through my teeth if I didn't say I'd be game.)


But I wouldn't want to push him. He's dealt with and still deals with his own things as he is adulting too. Not only was he a gigantic portion of the reason I'm still here, but he continued to motivate me to stay alive through love, and he took care of me, and he has literally saved my life more than once. I could tell you about one of the dramatic times, like when I fell off a horse and blacked out and he was there and rescued me, or the every day hero moves like when he would carry me up the stairs when I didn't have the strength. The poor guy has had to drive me to the emergency room enough times, and tolerated me when I was too prideful to use the electric cart at the store and cried in the middle of the aisle.


Anyway, after all of the mess we’ve been through, and all he has done for me, I didn't want him to have to deal with more of any kind of mess from the Mikster.


But, in case he's reading…


Thank you for your role in my life.