I recently attended a baby shower for a girl a grew up with up. I still remember sitting next to this almost too thin, nervous, lil bird on the bus in sixth grade. Funny but she is all grown up now.
When you become ill and then disabled at 22 you lose alot of the so called normal life. I saw my friends go off to college, graduate, marry the perfect husband, buy the perfect house, car, and now start having children, meanwhile I was spending time trying to desperately cling to my sanity. And believe me there is a big difference in trying to decide which flowers to buy for your wedding and trying to decide if you should listen to that voice in you head that is telling you that your father is the devil. These things, well, they hurt and if there is one thing I can say I haven't copped out on is the pain my illness has inflicted on me.
Now back to the baby shower. The room was full of about 20 of Vermont's finest princesses. These girls had no clue how great their lives were they could not even imagine or comprehend, the loneliness of my solitude, the depths of my despair, or over all hopelessness. Had they walked one year in my shoes, they would probably be dead. Looking back, they seem like such precious, fragile lil things in their superficical, surface dwelling lil worlds.
Anyway, I don't really know where I'm with this except that I still love my friend even though she is a princess that will never really know me or understand me again.
But I swear I will bitch slap the next fucking princess that makes some colorful comment about crazy people without knowing how much they suffer.
