I usually work hard to keep this blog clean; those who know me or have heard me speak can probably appreciate just how hard it is for me to speak without a lack of class when engaging in casual, nonprofessional conversation. Without dropping F-bombs and other fun, inappropriate words constantly. I figure my Facebook friends are used to me, or they can simply not be my ‘friends’ on FB, if they really have a problem with it, because it is who I am and I’m not changing for anyone.

There has been a tremendous amount of support in this horrible experience of losing my Dallas. From places I never expected, from people I haven’t spoken to in years. From coworkers of coworkers. Even clients. Some of the nicest things have been said. I’ve been given nice little poems and sayings to help me cope. I’ve been offered more times than I can count the “if there is anything I can do to just let me know..”. I never realized I had so many friends or people I could count on. I tend to think of myself as an introverted outcast who is not appropriate for most ears.

I think I will post some of the nicer quotations and stories another time, under a more fitting title.

There was only one thing that was said to me that really rubbed me the wrong way. Maybe I’m just a raving lunatic. Maybe I just do not have the ability to think or see rationally right now. Or maybe I’m stronger than I think and it really was a stupid fucking thing to say.

“Your life will be easier in the long run, without her.”

It was said days ago but it still bothers me. I am not one to express feelings – or even feel them really, let alone talk about them. But I am hurting tremendously right now. No, it is not easier without her. I do not care if she cost me $500+/month in medications and supplies. I do not care if she was a full time job. I do not care if I had to spend another decade (or 10) keeping up on her television programing likes and dislikes, or cooking gourmet meals for her. Giving her shots. Cleaning up her messes when she decides she needed to fingerpaint in poop in retaliation for my putting on the wrong show. Me, having a heart attack any time she fell over or showed any signs of illness. Killing myself to get weight on her. Explaining multiple times a day to neighbors, clients, passerbys that she is NOT neglected, she just doesn’t like food. Her mood swings. Being unable to travel because she and I could not be apart-as she would let no one else care for her. Her eating Hubby and all the trouble I went to keeping them separated -and any other thing I could’ve ever had to do or sacrifice for her. All of that and more sure was EASIER than this pain. And while people claim it will get less difficult, and it will hurt less over time, I’m assuming they are right – but I am certain that even once it has gotten easier- it still will NOT in fact be easier than having her around.

Just felt a need to share that and off-set what I feel is a very stupid sentiment.

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