Dear diary, 

Dear diary, 
I’m laying on my daughter’s trundle bed mattress in my walk in closet. Yes, the closet is big enough to store the old single mattress. I thought it was a fitting moment to lay it on the floor and close the door for my breakdown. It is raining outside. I can hear the rain on the roof. This closet is freaking silent! I should sleep in here, seriously! A/C vent is blowing on me. It’s cozy and silent. No one can hear my cry breakdown. This is good. It’s a good thing. I need to be alone. I am alone. Aren’t we all. Just alone in whatever it is we are going through. I went to facebook to look to someone, for some to reach out to, but it was all “Hey look at me” and I switched over to my blog. I looked at my followers and was deeply upset to find amidst my gems there were some rotten ones. I have porn people and child porn people following my blog. What in the hell!!! So I blocked them, I think, if you can do that on blogs. One of my followers asked if I wanted to pay him to reblog a post for fifty dollars. Are you kidding me. Pay another blogger to repost my blog. Then someone else was asking for money to support writing her blog. So I got even more upset and came here. In this quiet space. Money to write a blog. Money…to ….write…..a ……blog. I’ve seen people asking for money for just about everything but not to post a blog post once a week. But this is what has led me to my closet floor. Unless you have IT, whatever IT is, then you won’t get what you need. Be it money, the most funded disease, the most worthy cause, if you don’t hashtag christian or whatever the right hashtag is then you are just …what? I just read a blog that had 700 likes because it was hashtaged christian. And the content? Open your bible, you can get it right there. What do people want? Why do 700 people support one person but that mother whose baby died only gets a few likes and a few followers. Why do they choose and leave those who are empty to stay empty when they could build them up. Hey don’t get me wrong. I’m a christian. But I am also a supporter of any faith, gender, blah blah blah. I don’t discriminate nor follow based on a hashtag. I read blogs daily but I have not for the last week. I can’t. My brain cannot compute any more input. I can give compassion and reading to one blog a day. That’s all I can do now. 

Why am I really in my closet. Because I know that my body is disintegrating, falling apart, wasting away. My vision is poor, my joints are poor, my bones and muscles we already know are hollow. So what about palliative care for me? If I had cancer I would be getting a ton of palliative care. It’s true. I worked for hospice. I know! Because they should get palliative care. Which means comfort care. But what of those like me who have not been a time frame. What of those like me who just have to watch myself disappear. I don’t get PT or massage or medications to easy my pain because all of that cost MONEY. Hospice is free. Lets see. The dentist just told me that I have some sort of displaced disc in my jaw. It could use massage and PT and that could help my trigemenal neuralgia. Insurance doesn’t cover it. I also need a mouth splint. Insurance doesnt  cover that. Well for my muscle disease I could use massage twice a week. Guess how much that is. And then aquatic therapy. Hahahahaha. Like that can happen. Then there is a question of my pain. Well I have bone pain, nerve pain, joint pain, muscle pain. I’d love to get acupuncture but at 80 a pop that won’t happen. That doesn’t even take into consideration my mental and emotional health. Just to pay someone to teach me coping skills is not cheap.  Comfort care is not cheap. But who am I kidding, I cant drive to all of those appointments anyway? Who is going to drive me to 2 apts a week??!!! I can tell you noone has offered. It falls on my husband. He can only do so much. The an has a job!

So NO I’m not paying for my blogs to be reblogged and I’m damn sure not paying anyone else to write their blog. Do these people not know how desperate others are for…..more important things than paying for a blog repost??????

Go on a vacation someone said. Really? You gonna pay for it? And where can I go that is wheelchair accessible and has non-fabric softener rooms. Oh and I cannot drive so how will I get there? How will I then get food. 

Don’t throw out bullshit statements like you need a vacation! 

Then my hair breaks off, falls out, and my hair dresser quits same day. No biggie. Just hair right. I write a blog about it. Lets go all be empowering and get a cool punk hair cut. Oh no. Already comments, oooh don’t get a pixie cut…just get a trim…just let it grow out…don’t go crazy and buz your head. Comment after comment. Not one fucking person said I am so sorry your hair fell out, are you ok? Because no one asks if I am ok, ever. Well except my husband who just opened the closet door to check on me. You know, his wife in the closet. But back to my hair. Why does it matter. Why would it make me crazy if I took clippers and buzzed my hair. Why are women labeled. Why can’t we cut our own  hair if it falls out if that makes us feel empowered. I mean. Who is it really hurting. People can throw out the comments but not one fucking person has offered to come and get me and take me to get my hair cut. NOT ONE. So I went to the dentist today with five thousand, maybe less, clips and bobbypins holding all the crazy hair down. 

For fucks sake does anyone have compassion anymore? I already feel the questions around posting this because god forbid anyone ever really show their true self and true struggles !…ohh are they broke….do they need money….this is not about how much money we do or do not have. This is about the fact that my body is, as I have been told over and over again, wasting away, and it would cost thousands and thousands of dollars to get me even close to be comfortable. Not even taking into account that I have to take care of my daughter by myself most of the time with a body that hurts to brush my own hair. Oh my hair fell out. But God forbid I get a pixie cut. 

My dear diary, I am writing to you because i feel that not one person would hear my words right now and give me what I need. Just love. So I am going to lay in my closet where it is quiet until I can draw upon my own love I have within myself to finally emerge from here. I actually have a lot to keep me company. I have very little clothing. Minimalist in that aspect. Shelves are full of plastic bins that have my daughter and my diaries books. We used to write to each other every night and then reply each morning. We’d draw pictures and write poems and stories. Maybe I will read those to distract me. Because I have no pain management. And when your body wastes it is extremely painful. Lyme disease, muscle diseases, trigemenal neuralgia, all this facial pain, extremely painful, but no one gets it. No one asks. I had to tell the dentist that my don’t touch me sign is because I have pain and don’t want to be pat. No one has any clue how much pain I am in. No one. No one asks. No palliative care for me. Closet therapy. That’s what it has come down to. God I feel like if I put this on my blog my family will read and and judge me, say I’m crazy, say I could have had them had I just shut my mouth, say I deserve it….they will. Make no mistake, my family, if I publish this, will snicker to themselves. That’s where I was first introduced to lack of compassion. But you know what. Fuck it. I’m putting it out there. No hashtags. Just me. This is me. This is where I am. In my closet. Crying by myself because this is the point I have reached in my life. I guess, if you could gain any insight from what I have written, I hope you gain that compassion goes a long way….especially if you aren’t getting any.

My view from the floor…see…cozy…if you happen to be laying in a closet…

54 thoughts on “Dear diary, 

  1. I’m so sorry how much you are hurting. I feel like I should admit, I didn’t get it very well. And not that this makes it any different but I had no idea you have trigeminal neuralgia. Oh my god! I just recently learned about that. What a nightmare.

    Sometimes I read and I feel so awful but I don’t know what to say because it just seems like anything I say would seem trite I guess or insincere even though I am.

    I wish there was some way I could help you.

    Liked by 1 person

    • What you said is perfect. Thank you.
      Trigemenal neuralgia is often called the suicide disease because the pain is so relentless it pushes people to suicide. The neurologist told me that to validate how bad the pain is. But that is not my only pain issue. My muscle disease is extremely painful so much that I can barely move sometimes during the day. It is difficult. So I had a bit of a breaking point today.
      Thank you for listening and giving such sweet words.
      I would never take any of your words as trite.
      Sometimes I read blogs and have no idea what to say because what I have read is just terrible and it seems just saying, I’m so sorry , would not be enough but sometimes it is all I know to say and I think , well speaking from experience, anyone just taking the time to read what I have been feeling and offers a kind word is so appreciated

      Liked by 2 people

  2. I am sorry you are suffering so. I am sorry you feel so bad and there is so little help for you and those in your situation. I see your anger, your frustration, your hurt and I have no words to help. I care. Yet I have no idea how to make it better for you. You mentioned your daughter and husband, two grand loving people, and it seems they are your anchor in life. Thank you for blogging about your situation and all the things you bring up, they are important. We need to hear what you are saying. Those who need to hear most are those who turned their backs on you, your family. Thank you for this glimpse into your life, how can I help. What can I do to help you. Hugs

    Liked by 1 person

    • My husband and my daughter are my two loves. Yes my anchors very true.
      Your words have helped so you did have them after all. I read your words and after I fell asleep to the most wonderful dream. I just wrote a poem about it now. I was back with my dogs running on the beach. It was so wonderful.
      Thank you for asking how you could help me.
      You already have

      Liked by 1 person

  3. I’m so sorry you are in this place but I can totally relate to the health issues, one right after the other and no money to pay the blasted copays. Your little closet sounds perfect! I may have to rethink mine. Lol I hope you feel better soon.


    • 🙂 rethink the closet for sure! I felt much better after just some solitude and quiet and writing out my thoughts.
      I’m so sorry to hear you know about the copays and the health. It is so frustrating! Thanks for your comment!

      Liked by 1 person

  4. I don’t have my twitter account anymore but I would love to have seen that. It gets me fired up when I see things like that. I thought I was the only one. I should have known you felt the same way.

    Liked by 2 people

  5. So many times we are at a loss for words and we don’t realize that just a simple acknowledgement of your pain and offering comforting words could go a long ways. Thank you for the reminder. I’m sorry for your pain physical and mental. I use to hide in my daughter’s closet from my exhusband he could never find me there. Sometimes I like to find small dark spaces to hide in now. There’s something very calming and comforting about them. I hope you feel better soon. I wish there was more I could do than just say these words to you. I wish I could hold you.( which may be awkward since we just met. But I would cuz that’s what you need. ☺️) Thank you for everything you do and say to help us all be more aware of the love we can extend to one another to make life easier for us all. Bethany you inspire me.

    Liked by 2 people

  6. Oh, My Dear Darling Bethany: How I wish I could speak to you instead of writing, do comforting things for you, with you …. I have been reading your recent brilliant passionate furious posts. I have been too up the creek without a ladder myself to write back.

    You know, of course, in the heart of Brooklyn where I am, we don’t see stars. Only during a blackout. This afternoon, I thought how I must write to you, no matter how yecchy I am feeling. I was walking home in the rain, an umbrella in one hand and a bag of heavy groceries in the other,. My glasses are wet. I was walking through gardens around apartment buildings …and I saw a Bright Red Bird. HEY – I immediately thought – I must tell Bethany … maybe I’m crazy and I didn’t see it (who sees bright red birds ten feet from the traffic going every which way in rush hour on the Brooklyn Bridge?) I stopped and waited (as you would) and saw it again. MOST FABULOUS EVER. I wanted to take a picture for you (and my grand daughter who has learnt to love nature from me) but my arms were busy. I must write to Bethany tonight.
    Actually, I see midnight has come and gone and I am writing to you tomorrow.
    Dear Friend, you endure pain upon pain. Write me if you would like to chat.
    TS with great respect.


    • What a beautiful thing for me to read in the middle of the night. Thank you for this. I fell asleep early and dreamed I was running on the beach. I woke up calling for my dog and then crying because he was not here. I don’t cry. But when the floodgates open, they seem to stay open for a few days. I guess these are these few days. So what a nice thing to open my eyes to, the bird. You seeing the bird just gives me such hope. I know the bird was there. What a gift for you to see it and write to me about it.
      Thank you so much.
      I will write to your email tomorrow after I get some more sleep.

      Liked by 1 person

  7. I am sorry that you have such nasty and insensitive people following your blog, and I’m sorry to hear that your hairdresser quit and it is just one more thing you have to sort out by yourself. Don’t let anyone tell you what to do with your hair – it’s your body and your hair, you’re not some kind of doll that other people get to choose things for. You do what works for you and what makes you feel the best you can when you’ve been handed a bad deal. I know that being in pain all the time makes things doubly hard, and that it probably makes it really hard for you to concentrate as well as to do things physically. You always manage to find such beauty in the world around you to write about on your blog that I sometimes forget just briefly how much you struggle to be out in that world. I hope you know that it is ok not to feel you have to seem strong for other people, that with everything you have to deal with, making a safe retreat and curling up in there is a perfectly reasonable thing to do, and I hope that things get just a little better for you in the next few days.


  8. I’m so sorry for your pain. It must take great courage just to get through each day. I wish there was something that coud releive your pain. And yes, massages etc. are usually for those who can afford them.


  9. I’m so glad you have a place like that. I wish I did. My writings are my safe place. I’m sorry. I love you and I’m sending you as much love and hope as I can. I’m struggling today, but we have to hang in there today. I’m going to fight. Fight with me. I love you!! Hugs!!!


      • Thanks. I managed to work through it today. My dad was very helpful and being at work helped as well. 🙂 Smiling and holding you in my heart. Thanks for reaching out Bethany. It means so much to me.


      • Yeah me too. His support of me and always showing up when I need him most has been a Godsend to me. It’s surprises me. After what my mom did to me I’m surprised that anyone wants to help me especially those closest to me, but my father and all my family and friends and people like yourself are so patient and loving toward me and it helps me to realize that I have a such a support net group of people who love me and truly appreciate me and want to help me.


  10. I am so, so sorry, Bethany. Your posts are usually so upbeat that I had no idea you were suffering so much. I thought I did post something compassionate on your blog about your hair breaking off. What I wrote was meant to be compassionate. I’m sorry if the words I used were wrong.

    I have an appointment in a few hours to see the surgeon and find out the result of my biopsy. Plus he is going to assess another growth that my general practitioner also wants biopsied. So right now my head is not working 100%.



    • Oh you were very compassionate. Everyone on wordpress is a godsend to me. It is people in my current day life that say things that are not building but breaking.
      I don’t share a lot of my pain. I do some in poetry. I do some here and there. I know that people don’t like to hear about symptoms and suffering physically. So I try not to talk about it at home very much unless when really necessary. But that was a breaking point day where pain was overbearing in so many areas that I just had to lock myself away in silence and find some peace. I have been very emotional since. Something kind of snaps in me and I become overwhelmed with the magnitude of my symptoms and the helplessness of it all. It snowballs.
      You have been nothing but supportive.
      I was just free writing thoughts that I don’t typically share.
      You have never used wrong words.
      I know how it feels to not have your head working 100%. I pray that your biopsy results are negative and that all is well. I am sure the wait has been unbearable. I hope for you that all is ok. Please message me back and let me know!

      Liked by 1 person

      • Dear Bethany. Your beautiful and compassionate spirit amazes me.

        When I initially read this post, I was particularly struck by what you said about the possibility of your family reading this. You said: “God I feel like if I put this on my blog my family will read and judge me, say I’m crazy, say I could have had them had I just shut my mouth, say I deserve it….they will. Make no mistake, my family, if I publish this, will snicker to themselves. That’s where I was first introduced to lack of compassion.”

        Yes. I come from the exact same kind of “family”.

        The worst of the bunch is my momster. When I was 26 years old, after not having had an annual physical for about 5 years due to no insurance, I finally was able to go to a doctor — and was told I had cervical cancer. The pathology report said that it was “impossible to be sure from so small a tissue sample, but it appears that the carcinoma may have spread to the endocrine system”.

        I knew that if the cancer really had spread to my endocrine glands, I had just been given a death sentence. Feeling stunned and scared, I called my mom…. still looking for water from a dry well, you know?

        “Cervical cancer is nothing, it’s the most curable type of cancer there is,” she said dismissively. “They shouldn’t even call it cancer, really, it’s hardly worse than having a bad cold. So don’t go getting all hysterical over it.”

        Her condescending tone brought back all the times when I was growing up, that my mother called me “too sensitive”, “a big baby”, and “Poor Pitiful Pearl”. But it also did not make any sense to me, the things she was saying, because I knew that her husband’s mother had died of cervical cancer when he was a boy.

        But even worse than the zero compassion was my momster’s parting shot: “You know, I have read that women who are promiscuous are most likely to get cervical cancer….”

        I didn’t even tell her what the pathologist’s report said about my endocrine system possibly being involved. Because I did not want to come across as “over sensitive” or a “whiner”. (But let anything ever be wrong with HER, or just possibly be wrong with her, and that was ALL SHE COULD TALK ABOUT.)

        Well anyway, it is obvious that the carcinoma had not invaded my endocrine system, because that happened in 1979 and I am still here. The biopsy I am finding out about today, was taken during a colonoscopy. I have had two relatives die of colon cancer. Both were on my mom’s side of my family, so I know I am related to them. After getting the results of a DNA test a couple of years ago, it is almost certain that my dad was not my dad. Which I had already suspected, for several reasons. That “promiscuous” barb? It was typical malignant narcissistic projection. But at age 26, I did not know anything about that yet, I took my momster’s barbs straight to the heart.

        Like you, dear Bethany, I have been through a lot in my life. Almost 2 years in a notorious state insane asylum as a 14-16 year old kid, committed there by my abusive parents because I had the poor judgment of having a post-traumatic nervous breakdown more than a decade before PTSD was an official psychiatric diagnosis. I have been beaten severely somewhere between 50-100 times, knocked unconscious at least 3 times due to abuse. I have been sexually abused, spiritually abused, and verbally abused.

        But NOTHING, in my experience, HURTS like the pain of not being loved and wanted by my family of origin. Coming from a family like that, it’s a miracle if we can just survive to grow up!


      • Well she must have ripped up your self worth and self esteem and stomped on it a million times…how cruel and dismissive and minimizing.
        You and I have many similarities as I was in a mental hospital as well but had I had unconditional love and support I never would have been put there. It was a dumping ground for parents who didn’t want to put the effort in to support their children.
        To accuse you of being promiscuous. Yes, I got that. I had not cervical cancer but cervical dysplasia and needed a cone biopsy to remove the affected tissue. My mom told her friends I had sexually transmitted diseases with no regard to my personal experiences or my feelings or really anything about me. It was never about me.
        It’s painful. It’s hard to get over and get past.
        How did they treat the cervical cancer?
        I also had polyps which were painful to treat.
        The kind of psychological abuse your mother put on you is so devastating. I want to reach out and grab her by the throat! And then reach out and put my arms around you and give you the love you deserved and not the put downs and accusations that only a mother does when she is eaten up with her own lies.
        Like you said, nothing hurts like not being loved by your family of origin. It is very painful. Something i am working hard at getting past.
        It is on my long to do list.
        Take care of my sick daughter who has been ill for 3 years and find out what is making her so sick
        Try to preserve what i have left of my body
        Learn more coping skills for the anxiety of ptsd
        Process the childhood abuse
        Process the horridness of my family
        And my list goes on.
        Thank you for sharing your story.
        It pains me to know you have been through such horror too. My heart feels for you. I am glad it did not move into your endocrine system.

        Liked by 1 person

      • Awwwww, Bethany. Here’s a great big virtual painless non-invasive ((HUG)) if you want one.

        You asked how my cervical cancer was treated. First with cyrosurgery (don’t know if I spelled that right, it’s done by freezing), then a cone biopsy. This was in 1979, so the method of treatment may be very different today.

        At first, a hysterectomy was suggested. But I wanted another child. Even so, I was told I couldn’t get pregnant again, because of all the scar tissue from the treatments. But…. he’s 36 years old now, engaged, and buying a gorgeous house. 🙂

        My appointment with the surgeon yesterday went great — he said I don’t have colon cancer, just inflammation, YAAAAY! Now I am scheduled to have an inflamed cyst removed and biopsied on July 10.

        Your mother — I want to reach out and strangle her for you, too. Maybe we can do a Throw Momma From the Train thing? Lol


      • That is what I had when mine came back abnormal. It was not cancer just pre, so they did the cryo then cone biopsy. Wow they told you to get a hysterectomy and here you are fine with a child you may not have been able to have!
        Yay on the apt with the surgeon!!!
        The throw momma from the train really made me laugh!!!


  11. I wish I could lay in your closet with you and talk. I’m sorry you were having such a hard day. Are you ok now? When I was in Atlantic Beach last week I thought about you several times and wondered if we would hit it off in person. I almost reached out to you again, but figured it would be a challenge to connect since you mentioned you are two hours away. And I wasn’t sure if it would even be something you would want to do…meet someone you’ve connected with here online…I know some people just like to remain behind the screen. And that’s ok. I wish I would have now, though. I will be back. And when I can, I will let you know. I would be willing to come and get you! And you could enjoy the ocean and we could watch for dolphins together!


    • Are you kidding!! YES!! I would love to have met you!! I completely forgot you were going to be a few hours away! It would be a challenge to meet only because it would just have to be spur of the moment if i am having an ok health day to travel. But I have been just dying to go to the beach and was just telling my daughter I want to go back very soon.
      I don’t think I would meet just anyone but there are a handful of friends I have made blogging that I would love to watch the dolphins with and you are one of them.
      Did you see any dolphins? How was your trip?
      That night in my closet was a very very low point. But it turned and I am doing much better now. I let my health get the best of me and I felt very alone.
      Next time you come my way let me know.
      I haven’t been reading blogs for the last week. I need to catch up. I usually read a ton a day but I just needed to focus on my own mental health and stay mindful. Thank you for reaching out to me!!!!

      Liked by 1 person

      • I am so good with spur of the moment, I live my life in that mode 😊 And I did see dolphins, every day! I captured some on video too, which felt like an accomplishment! I will definitely let you know the next time I come. I’m glad you are taking time to focus on you. You need it and it’s ok. And thank goodness for your closet!


    • I love that you felt nurturing to write this. Thank you!!! I am still alive and kicking!!! That may have been my lowest point of posts on my blog. I put it all out there though. Maybe read todays post and it will show I am trying a bit more than that post :). Thanks for your comment. I really appreciate it.

      Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s