Friday, December 10, 2021

Just Fuck!

When something is bothering me, I can figure out what it is if I sit down and start writing and doing my best to describe how I feel. If I just keep writing, eventually the truth will be revealed. That happened last night. Here’s how my 1,500-word letter to Dr. Shoja ended:

One more thing scares me: My friends are good friends. I have a good double-handful of wonderful people who’ve stuck with me through my life. They will not abandon me. But I don’t want to be physically with them. I don’t really want to be with anyone. I feel deficient, inadequate, out of place. Right now, my friendships work better on email. But it’s like being in jail. 

“I do want to see my friends. I desperately want to go to the parties of my friends here on the island, but I can’t do it. I feel I can’t do it to them—I feel like a fart at a party; and I can’t do it to myself. I don’t know how to be a mute in a speaking world yet. 

“There it is: I don’t know how to be a mute in a speaking world.”

Two weeks ago, I wrote the love letter of my life to my cousin, Ann. She stopped communicating with me thirty years ago, and I’ve pined for her ever since. She was someone I absolutely adored all through my childhood, adolescence and early adulthood. But then it all stopped with no explanation.

Well, it seems I cannot hope for a reproachment. I’ve heard nothing back from here, even though I added a stamped self-addressed card with which she could reply. I knew when I wrote, I was opening the door to being hurt yet again by her indifference. It hurts and I’m pissed at her; I think she’s unkind.

Well … here I go again. Another day as a mute person, another day dreading that the phone will ring. 

Today I’m going to fire up my iPad and type into my Proloquo2go program, the following: “Hello. I am using a speech generating App to tell you that you’ve reached Chris and right now my FND disorder has me unable to speak. To communicate with me, please email me at Thank you”

I can then answer the phone and play the message.

I don’t want to live too long locked up like this. If I am still mute at the end of January, I reckon I will sign up for online ASL classes even though I don’t know anyone who can sign. If I do decide to learn ASL, I will ask Jay or Regina to put on post on the Gabriola community page asking if there’s anyone on the island who can sign. If there is, I may hire them to help me.

I’m going dog walking with Regina, Donna and Di this morning. I tend to walk ahead of them and listen to them talking behind me. Even though I cannot speak with them, I value their company; they are welcoming even though I can’t speak with them. 

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