Everyday seems to be a bit of an opposite of the day before.
There are days where my theme song is I am a rock by Paul Simon. Listen to the lyrics. I don't need anyone.... I'm an island.
Then the next day I'm all about Joe Cocker With a little help from my friends. (and for those music trivia buffs, I do know this song was a Beatles original. Joe did it better)
Now ladies and gents, the million dollar question is... Do I need friends or do they continue to hurt me. Or is it me letting them affect me. I'm still working on this.
I have not really seen or spoken to A for over 2 months. It's sad and complicated.
Other friends have really turned up which has been really nice. Really, really nice. This now brings me onto the next topic. I've said it on this blog a gazillion times but I'll say it again. It's something I was told on the Camino and it's so true.
There are only 2 kinds of people in life. Those that turn up, and those that don't.
I have this friend J who I met in 2011. We hung out for a bit and got to know each other. Then in summer of 2013 his behaviour was really odd, weird and he wasn't very nice to me. I know I deserve better, he was toxic, so we stopped talking. Over a year later he called me out of the blue but I was far to poorly to deal with anyone. Let's not forget this was the stage where I had a uni dread and took a shower every 5+ days. I was too weak.
Anyhow, in late September 2015 J was surfing in Australia where he had a stoke and was also in a coma. (He's out of the coma now and talking) After being in an Australian hospital for a few weeks he has been transferred back to the UK. He's been back in the UK for about 10 days and I went to see him last night. (We still have a load of mutual friends and acquaintances who informed me about what had happened)
Let me tell you that it wasn't an easy decision to go visit. I thought about it a great deal. I'm still pissed off about his behaviour towards me 2 years ago. But I also know what it's like to be sick and alone. I know how bad hospitals can be. I know what weak feels like. These are the reasons that made me decide to go visit him.
Story Detour: 2 nights ago I went to the pub with my housemate S (he's the other teacher. Not D who's also a teacher and lives with me) S heard the whole story and agreed that J behaviour was odd. Well now I'm drunk at the pub with S, I text J to see if he wants me to bring him anything tomorrow. I suggested a nice blanket. Hospital linen is soooo bad. J says a warm blanket would be good. Once home I look in my trunk of great blankets and picked a massive wool one. Natural fibres are the best.
Right! So now the actual visit, when I get to the hospital he has a huge beard. By the time the night was over my brutal honesty was in full fledge. I told him he looks like the Amish. He went bald in his 20's and with the beard at that length it's funny.
When I arrived I gave him the wool blanket and said hello to the 3 other visitors he had. One of whom I know and the other 2 know a bunch of my other friends. One of them made some chocolate moose, another went to the pharmacy to pick up some massage oil. I guess they were all trying do their bit. We all chatted and the list of visitors he has had came up, it's been quite long and impressive. Lots of nice folks that I know loosely.
Due to the stroke he is currently paralysed on his left side. There are still dong tests but intensive Physio is on the programme. I have no clinical knowledge nor do I really understand our brains etc. However... I feel that he will get back to where he needs to be. Fit, healthy and occasionally pissing people off. How's that for good ol'fashion Leena optimism. I can just feel that it's going to be ok.
After the visitor friends left I was able to be myself more. It's funny how in my old age I'm not as comfortable in groups. I started tiding up and asking more important questions. One of which was why was he wearing these god awful green, thin pj's. He's not really sure where his blue pj's are but the rest of his clothing need a wash.
Warning readers: this is the part where I inflate my ego and bitch about the world. Where the fuck are practical people. What the fuck has happened to common sense and helping your neighbour. Why does everyone only think about themselves, their kids and spouse. That's it, that's all. Why aren't all these smart kind visitors actually asking the right questions? Who's cleaning your flat, where's your missing passport? It's not in the envelope where you think it is. Are you cold at night? Should I bring you a blanket? Why don't I take your laundry home and wash it.
Well folks! That's what I did. After over 2 years of not talking to this guy, there I was last night washing his clothes. I'll return them to him tomorrow.
I would also like to add that boys can be real pricks sometimes and it's totally good and necessary to call them an asshole when needed. I've called plenty of guys assholes in my time and they actually love me more. Really, go ask them. Once his friends left, I called him an asshole. I might have even called him a fucker too.
I would like to end this entry with the fact that I will always be a forever optimist. I know the world has some major issues going on but I still have hope that there are a few more people out there like me. (Preferably a hot male with a good sperm count)
So last week S (house mate) had a bag full of clothing that he was going to give to a local charity shop on the high street. I stopped him immediately and said, 'No, it's going to the Syrians.' S is totally cool and replied 'Sure but there are loads of ties in the bag too. Will they want it?'
My optimistic reply was, 'They are eventually going to get jobs and will need a tie for their interview'