I don't regret being homeless, because despite what's happened to me I'm still alive and learning new things. And learning to grow a thick skin about things. I don't regret asking for help ... because anyone in my position who didn't go to people for help would wind up dead or crazy. But let's face it, in the face of stress and anxiety and fear and degradation at soup kitchens, etc ... at least I'm strong enough to admit when I'm afraid and need the help.
I don't regret the loss of anyone who refused to even speak to me about my situation ... but I do regret the loss of one amazingly honest man. Who although he now thinks badly of me, was at least still showing me what he honestly thought of things. I miss the chance to get to know him properly while I work past all this and wonder what could have been with someone that blunt and not afraid to voice himself.
and in the meanwhile, all this runs through my mind and plays along as I still struggle to find my footing and get into a safe place. Got help to keep my phone on some more, so that is always a big plus. Thank the gods for Flora for helping with my wow, even though he doesn't always say the right things LOL One day I can recover what I've lost of my past and hopefully one day become stronger for having survived all this.
I've avoided writing any blog or anything ... I was still angry, and probably will always be a little hurt by how many backs turned on me at once. But at least the sting has receded. What happened makes me question what I thought of friends as. Were the situations reversed would I really have turned my back on any of them? Likely not, I would have helped. That's perhaps just me... I tend to have a very soft heart and have always helped those I could, if I knew them well or not. Maybe I expect too much out of others who called me 'friend' and we all define it so very differently. I assumed the words weren't used lightly, but maybe they were.
Hard to tell what anyone else is thinking ... us human's really are a fool hardy lot aren't we?
