First off I would like to apologize for my recent absence from Wordsmoker.
Just over a couple of months ago, I started dating someone. He is an amazing man who I had already known for about 6 months before we both realized we had more than just platonic love for each other.
People die everyday. Babies are born everyday. Life leaves and life enters this world on a daily basis. When someone dies in New York City, Chicago, LA, Boston, etc., not many people notice aside from the family members and loved ones of the deceased – unless of course the deceased is a high profile person. But when someone dies in Maple Corner, Calais, Vermont (population of under 100 people, in my estimation) everyone notices.
I got sick. Really fucking sick. It was scary at times–mostly due to the fact that I had a fever and some other symptoms that could have been indicative of The Swine Flu (or The H1N1 Virus). And while it turned out not to be any kind of flu, it still sucked. I went to see my Doctor on Friday to get checked out, as I had not been well for a week prior. As far as she could tell by examining me, I had no illnesses that would cause the fever I had. I also could not keep anything down, nor could I sleep. I was a hot mess. More of a mess than I had been in a long, long time.
Why should I give you access to my life? You are obviously not a friend anymore. We were tight in high school and remained super close when we went away to college, but now you don’t seem to think I exist. I was part of your crowd. I was a bridesmaid at your wedding. I spoke at your fucking wedding. I know that I hurt you when I was sick. But we have talked, I have made amends to you.
Ironically, just days after my post about how going to the ER is so difficult for me was run, here, on Wordsmoker, I ended up in another situation where I HAD to go to the ER. I actually was ordered by my primary care physician to go to the ER.
For the past 4 days or so, I have had this thing growing underneath my eyebrow. At first it just felt like a pimple that had to surface and be popped (I have been blessed with never really having an acne problem, especially around my eye area, so I did think it a bit odd). But it got bigger and bigger till the whole area around my right eye was so swollen that I could barely open my eye.
1. As a child, I used to sneak sips of a children’s cold medicine that tasted like grape soda because my parent’s did not allow soda in the house, except for very special occasions.
Growing up with a name that was not a commonly used name has not been the biggest challenge of my life, but it has sometimes been difficult nonetheless. In grade school, probably 90% of my friends and even teachers called me “Anna Banana.” Even today people seem to find it funny. Hurmph. There have also been the people who can’t seem to grasp the concept that my name is Anna. Not Ann, or Annie–AnnA.
As many of you (on Facebook) know by now, a couple of nights ago I sliced my finger open. It was one of those cuts where I didn’t even realize that I had done it till I saw blood pouring over all the cheese I was trying to slice (ruining cheese like that should be against the law). So I rushed my finger to the kitchen sink to let cold water run over it for a while.
(Editor’s Note: I found this note posted by one of my Facebook friends. It’s an honest and direct piece of writing about the process of taking one’s life – and why you shouldn’t. I read it twice, thought about it a long while, then asked the author if I could run it on Wordsmoker. I think it deserves to be read outside of a Facebook network. If someone’s going through what Anna went through and they’re out there searching Google or whatever for help or advice, I hope they stumble across this and they read it and they think. )
