Objects in the rear view mirror

[docwebster]

A year ago this morning I was sitting in the living room on Azalea waiting for the city to arrive to throw us out. I keep remembering everything that happened, how it all felt. I was so damn tired, so numb. I hadn't slept, for obvious reasons, and I kept having this weird sensation all day long that I was operating my body by remote control, not actually physically present. I remember feeling so cut off because I wasn't going to be able to connect with you people for days on end and that was making it far, far worse.

There's so much I want to say right now but I don't have words to fit to what I'm wanting to express. I'm just having a really, really hard time of it right now.

Comments

[rosefox]

I don't comment much, but I always read your posts, and I'm sorry it's been such a hard year for you. I hope next year is better.

[unixronin.livejournal.com]

That. I think pretty much the only people who've really done well this past year are the rich fuckers on Wall Street. We have friends locally who are in pretty good shape, but even they had a tornado go through (barely missing damage to the house) and pretty much clearcut an acre or two of trees, and now their town is trying to charge them a "view tax" because they can now see distant mountains (if the weather is clear) through the gap where the tornado tore up their woods.

(As an amusing side note, I think the mountains they now have unplanned line-of-sight to may possibly be the ones we live on. I find myself pondering direct laser/maser links.)

[javagoth.livejournal.com]

{{{{{{{{{{{{{ Hugs }}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}

[kshandra]

Do you want the key? I think you've earned the right to wallow in this one for a while.

*love, always*

[hnybny.livejournal.com]

I'm thinking of you C.
<<<>>>

[djenk.livejournal.com]

Hang in there, sir. *hugs*

[idiomagic.livejournal.com]

I love you, Doc. I'm so sorry you're having a hard time...Take care of yourself, my dear.
*hugs and love and smooches*

[docwebster.livejournal.com]

Hon, I'm going to do what I always do on the weekends - play good music for the people, drink good coffee, and give good conversation. It's the best medicine I know of with my clothes on. As to the other, well, that ain't happened in three years and shows zero signs of happening again anytime soon so I kinda got stick with what works.
It actually works pretty damn well.

Ironically, one of the things that got left behind was a talking statuette of Eric. Kind of symbolic, I suppose.

[helen99.livejournal.com]

If you have a small, trusted subset of friends on your list who know you well, maybe you could make a filter and tell them. Someone may be able to help out or at least talk to you.