August 11, 2015


Filed under: Uncategorized — Knitman @ 4:44 pm

I feel sad. I also feel humiliated. Most of the people who attended our wedding no longer have anything to do with us. I chose those 24 people because I thought they were special and I wanted them to share our special day. As it turns out I was wrong.

My personality has not changed. My disabilities have got worse. My life started with me being abandoned and it certainly is looking like it is going to end that way too. I have two long-term close friends and it is very unlikely that I will see either of them again though of course we talk on the phone. I have one lovely friend where we live. One really special person in 16 years. But we are very close in age.

Yes I fear being alone being surrounded when my time comes by those who are paid to be there.

Two of the people that hurt me deeply because I never in 1 million years would have thought they would have deserted me at my time of most need. They did. One of them when I asked why she hadn’t been round at least was upfront and said I have enough negativity in my life without dealing with yours. Now this was somebody who on a regular basis and come to my house to unburden herself, have a cry and a cuddle and a coffee. I supported her through some truly dreadful things that happened but I never once turned her away no matter how much pain or fatigued I was. this was over 16 years and the first time I needed her that was it. The other friend didn’t have the courage to tell me why she had distanced herself from me but eventually she did and it was because of my disease.

The others have given no explanation at all. They have just gone.

I have heard other people who have debilitating diseases that slowly get worse and never better, lose the majority of their so-called friends.

You may indeed wonder why I am making such a big deal about this. It is because it feeds into my deepest fear which is to find myself powerless and institutionalised again. No matter how well people think a particular home is run there will always be abuse and neglect. I will not allow myself to become powerless like that again.

I really do not know why these feelings have come up today. Hazel and Anna came to clean and they are lovely and we have a good laugh. Thy paid me a really nice compliment. I was one of the few clients who treated them as equals and used their names.

Something must have triggered it off but I do not know what. Sometimes when John is not here I feel the feeling so dark I just cannot put into words. At least I know he is home on Thursday but what if he was never coming home? I felt this feeling first when I was stranded in Stockholm. I was in agony and I was frightened. This was in 2004 before I had been diagnosed. I wanted and missed John so badly it terrified me and I thought then that I might one day feel this but very much worse.

However, getting back to my original subject. I really am a lousy chooser of friends. I do feel angry and I feel bitter. One thing though that I have learned is that when a female becomes friends with me very quickly and is almost coyish, says I am like the brother they never had, and consistently tells me how lovely I am I know now that this will end badly. They will withdraw, sometimes turn very nasty, and leave me feeling hurt and bewildered.

Most of all, I feel humiliated. How could I have chosen such cruel friends? Why did I not see it?

The one person other than John their lives here and sees me regularly I know is not like any of the people I have been describing. She is genuine and would not think of hurting me. I have never met a person like her.

You know PTSD, survivor guilt, the parts of us that will always be stuck at a very young, toddler age, 5-6, puberty etc. It really depends on when the abuse takes place. With me it was daily all through my life. I am forever a child in a man’s body. I am forever vulnerable to those who see it and take advantage of it.

On the positive side there are those who see me as a damaged child and they treat me with such love care it is astonishing. It took me a while to see thay were and then longer to accept it. But they are there. You wouldn’t believe how much the people at Tesco feed my soul, nurture me. Even on holiday people will come up to me just to be nice. Sometimes generous with other than their time.



  1. feel for you Colin…try not to dwell on these missing ‘friends’. You are safe with John and if you’d like a visit from me one of these days, then let me know and I’ll put a date in my diary! I might even bring John on of my new and improved sourdough loaves rather than the door stop I left you with last time haha!! Bit busy August and September though, maybe October? xox

    Comment by picperfic — August 12, 2015 @ 12:16 pm

  2. Oh Colin I do feel what you are going through. My late husband Richard had a stroke in 1983 when he was 50 that didn’t seem to affect him much but gradually he became disabled from it and had to give up work at age 55. I had him at home until late 2005 when he became too much for me to care for at home (I had a misdiagnosed brain tumour). This was not my decision. He was in a care facility but I had the Handidart bring him home weekly for lunch and of course I and extended family would visit there and go to all the parties etc and arrange for him to come to all the family get togethers. He became very bitter as all his friends gradually dropped away. He felt they’d just used him to help with their projects such as putting up fences etc and now that he couldn’t help them they didn’t want to know. I tried to explain that it was more likely they were on ‘different paths’ now but he didn’t feel better about it. When I said he had his pals Conrad and Alan his reply was “they’re not my friend’s they’re your friend’s husbands”. This was not true, they did enjoy coming over. I can’t make you feel better but Colin do know you are not alone and people do care. Hugs.

    Comment by Patricia Holm — August 12, 2015 @ 2:37 pm

    • Thank you so much. I do understand how Richard felt. I am NOT going to let it eat me though. I am feeling better since sharing how I felt. I love to hear from you and maybe you’ll be back on FB soon. I hope you only put it to sleep and did not delete it entirely. xo

      Comment by Knitman — August 12, 2015 @ 3:28 pm

  3. Hey, Buddy, were I at your wedding, not only would the two of you be royally sick of me by now, but on every anniversary, I’d be at your front door with a bottle of Red and a CD of “The Greatest of Queen.” John would be saying, “Colin, where did you meet this insane person?” And you would be, “I know, but I keep her around for entertainment value.” LOL:) Love you..

    Comment by Joan — February 27, 2016 @ 1:28 am

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