In a message dated 11/20/2000 1:20:20 AM Eastern Standard Time,
[log in to unmask] writes:

> Betty, you do know me here... lol  And I appreciate you...
>

Thanks friend Mike.  I appreciate you too -- big time.  Tonight has been a
bad night for some reason.  Sometimes memories are still hard to cope with.
After all this time, I still can't get how people can dump you just because
you can't walk well anymore.  What the hell is wrong with this world anyway?
Is it me, or is it like a friggin crime to be disabled.  Excuse me, but
somebody forgot to read me my rights.

Or...don't I have any?

Sorry -- sometimes I just don't feel like being upbeat.  Sometimes I want to
put my fist through a wall, or I wish I could get amnesia so I could forget
people who forgot me.  I know I'm whining but this really does hurt
sometimes.  It seems like I think about this more at night when I can't sleep
because of physical pain or whatever.  I don't let it spiral down too long --
I know I'm in charge of that -- but I don't want to act like the emotional
pain isn't there either.

I just couldn't stop crying tonight.  I start thinking about old birdwatching
friends and it hurts like hell sometimes that I am invisible to them now.  It
really hurts like hell.  I guess I've been thinking about my Mom too.

I though maybe it would be helpful to call a hotline or something, just to
talk with another human being.  I called information and asked for a hotline
number, and the number they gave me was just a blasted recorded message.  I'm
cool -- I'm not suicidal by a long shot -- just lonely and hurting at the
moment.  But what if I had been ready to swallow a bucket of pills?  Tomorrow
I'm going to call that number again and talk to somebody about this.  The
next person who calls may be suicidal.  They shouldn't have to get a recorded
message from a hotline number.  I'm sorry but that's total BS.

In the morning I'll also be my usual jovial, and ridiculously zany self.
This is just a Temporary Bummedoutness Attack (TBA -- not to be confused with
"To Be Announced," the thing that you see when you look for the class you
want to take in the college catalog, and won't know until you get there
whether you're gonna get the cool Prof that everybody likes, or the jerk Prof
who thinks he walks on water).

This too shall pass.  Love the sinner; hate the sin -- whatever it takes.

Betty