A child can feel all alone growing up. A person can feel all alone in a crowded city, a family can feel all alone in a new country, a country can feel all alone in the world. Loneliness is akin to heartache in that it is one of the greatest challenges anyone can experience or go through. It may be hard to believe for someone experiencing loneliness but the truth is no one is ever really alone.

Everyone during good times, bad times and all times has three trusty companions that will never ever leave or forsake them, me, myself and I. Together these three companions can be your best friend or your worst enemy. They can guide you to the light or cause you to get lost in the dark. Either way me, myself and I are always there from the moment you are born until the day you die.

The good news for me, myself and I are the myriads of friends from which to choose from. A good friend in time of need is Faith. Having Faith around brightens up the darkest of days. Faith is the cynosure by which the lost can find their way. Faith is the belief in the unseen or the unknown that things can and will work out for the better.

With the largest population in the world’s history no one today should feel lonely yet some still do. Somewhere out there are children growing up without parents or any other guiding sources to depend on. There are those who have experienced the loss of a loved one or someone equally as close like a friend or mentor. There are the homeless, the disenfranchised and mentally heterodox that have no one to turn to and no place to go.

It’s said that the rock and roll icon Elvis Presley died a lonely man. Everyone loved Elvis the singer but was anyone really close with Elvis the man? How many true friends did he actually have? Fortune and fame do not always bring happiness. Close relationships do.

In addition to Faith it is a good idea to have a good relationship with Hope. Where there is Hope there is hope. The hopeless man rolls over and gives up the man with hope carries on and never gives up.

In surfing many of the best rides are when the surfer faces seemingly impossible odds of making the wave but hangs in there anyway hoping to make it and then does. Long after many surfers would have jumped off the surfer filled with hope keeps going. A surfer may be riding deep inside a dark tube all by himself but as long as he has hope he is not alone.

He who finds a true friend in this world is truly fortunate. Far better than fortune and fame is love. Love is by far the greatest companion anyone can ever have. Why is it so many people desire fortune and fame? Could it be an attempt at trying to satisfy a deeper need for something far greater?

Who knows, beneath all the pomp and glamour maybe such celebrities as Brittany Spears, Nichole Ritchie and Donald Trump are actually lonely people. They certainly work at attracting as much attention as they can. Why do they seem to need so much attention when they seem to already have all the fortune and fame they need? Perhaps they are in need of real down to earth honest love.

Being alone can be positive. From time to time most everyone wants to get away from it all, take a break from society and life in general. Some surf, play golf or go fishing to get away from the daily hustle and bustle of life. Others read books, watch movies or travel to remote areas to escape. Some take mental vacations by meditating or prayer.

Being alone isn’t always being lonely, being without Faith, Hope and Love is. Heaven forbid, but if you ever do find yourself feeling lonely remember even behind the darkest of clouds the sun still shines. Have faith maintain hope and above all things else know that love will save the day

Her wings lay torn and tattered where they fluttered to the ground,

Where once there was a song of joy there now was no more sound.

The air was filled with silence for there was no song to sing,

Gone was the love that lifted her…the Wind beneath her wings.

Gone the inspiration, the laughter in her soul,

She lay in broken promises with no one to make her whole.

For when the Wind beneath her wings so suddenly was gone,

The angel spiraled to the ground, falling broken and alone.

The air around grew silent, not a whisper in the wind,

Just the Fallen Angel’s breaking heart was a distant sound within.

A soft and plaintive weeping sound swirled and danced across the sky,

As a single tear fell to the ground from the Fallen Angel’s eye.

The tear fell on a seed of love that lay within her hand,

Clutched closely to her beating heart, so slowly it began.

From that tiny seed of love a song began to sing,

A song of a Fallen Angel and The Wind beneath her wings.

The song sang of undying love as it floated on the wind,

A song of true forgiveness with no beginning or no end.

It whispered to the night sky, it sang its melody,

It serenaded to the moon, to the flowers and the trees.

It sang across the meadows, past the stars and past the moon,

Then drifted ’round the Angel like a lingering perfume.

But still she lay in silence, a quiet broken thing,

Listening, waiting for the sound….of the Wind beneath her wings.

meaningful today.  Just wanted to share. 

If Today Was Your Last Day lyrics
Songwriters: Kroeger, Chad;

My best friend gave me the best advice
He said each day’s a gift and not a given right
Leave no stone unturned, leave your fears behind
And try to take the path less traveled by
That first step you take is the longest stride

If today was your last day and tomorrow was too late
Could you say goodbye to yesterday?
Would you live each moment like your last
Leave old pictures in the past?
Donate every dime you had, if today was your last day?
What if, what if, if today was your last day?

Against the grain should be a way of life
What’s worth the price is always worth the fight
Every second counts ’cause there’s no second try
So live like you’re never living twice
Don’t take the free ride in your own life

If today was your last day and tomorrow was too late
Could you say goodbye to yesterday?
Would you live each moment like your last?
Leave old pictures in the past?
Donate every dime you had?

And would you call those friends you never see?
Reminisce old memories?
Would you forgive your enemies?
And would you find that one you’re dreaming of?
Swear up and down to God above
That you’d finally fall in love if today was your last day?

If today was your last day
Would you make your mark by mending a broken heart?
You know it’s never too late to shoot for the stars
Regardless of who you are
So do whatever it takes
‘Cause you can’t rewind a moment in this life
Let nothing stand in your way
‘Cause the hands of time are never on your side

If today was your last day and tomorrow was too late
Could you say goodbye to yesterday?
Would you live each moment like your last?
Leave old pictures in the past?
Donate every dime you had?

And would you call those friends you never see?
Reminisce old memories?
Would you forgive your enemies?
And would you find that one you’re dreaming of
Swear up and down to God above
That you’d finally fall in love if today was your last day.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k-OlqERixVE

I want to be a gazelle in Africa,
running across the dry savanna.
It is a true sign of freedom.

I want to be a fish in the mighty river,
Swimming delicately below the water’s surface
It is a true sign of freedom

But I am a caged bird,
confined and alone, my wings clipped.
It is a true sign of captivity.

I am a gazelle attacked by a hungry lion,
trapped, with little chance of survival.
It is a true sign of captivity.

I am a fish on a fishermen’s line,
caught and struggling to survive.
It is a true sign of captivity.

But I will be a bird,
healed and released to freedom.
I will be a gazelle,
that will get away to live another day.
I will be a fish,
that tricked the fishermen and disappeared from his line

I will live.

Free of this Disease

Yes, I will be free.

Electronic tones pound my tympanic membrane
Stimulating my more artistic sense of being
Some would say that I have gone quite insane
I call it a different way of human seeing

Flashing lights blind me for moments at a time
As they play tricks on my supposed conscious reality
Bringing forth from this poet yet another rhyme
Describing to all just what it is that I see.
Embracing my own personal Odyssey

This night I spent in a world all of my own
A Kingdom to which I hold my own key
Where I rule and sit upon the high throne
Call it hallucination or fantasy
Or the wreckage of my mental debris

I have thought about getting a few of these people together so many times, but have always been concerned about what the outcome would be. Well, now I know. It is like living in a different world, with different issues, different priorities, and an entirely different language that we can only speak. There are times when I do let go and speak to my sick friends and it feels like a light bulb has gone off – or maybe a switch has been turned on – but I feel a level of understanding and pure comfort around the people who understand both me and the “acting” me. They know me both. They know that with me– they get the real and the fake- just to survive. If they are a good friend they can dig through the illusions and the crap and find me somewhere inside. What can I say, It is the “secret society of the sick” and I am proud but not lucky to be a member.

I hate people seeing me when I am sick and especially when I am looking sick. I really hate being pale, with faded eyes and with splotchy skin and bad hair. At least I know that some of these things are things I can work on, but others- they just are. I can’t make the blotchy rash go away. So I wear more make up or clothes that cover it up. I can’t make the spasms or the tremors go away, only work on ways to cover them up better.

It has been said by many people that I am a very good actress. “But You Don’t Look Sick” seemed to be all I heard. Is this a good thing? Sometimes it is an appropriate thing to say Most times I just take it for the compliment it is, all the while smiling, knowing exactly what it doesn’t mean. It simply means I am not the woman/ the girl I was before. I “act” like a healthy person the best I can. I take on this role as if I will someday win an award for best portrayal of a healthy person. The downside, is that there is no trophy, there is no prize, I just end up alone with my feelings and everything I have kept inside. I act like I don’t care- but I do. I act like I am not scared, but I am.

Will I be able to survive all of this without any financial issues or friendship ramifications?

I do love my life, but I hate alot of things lately.

I hate popping pills, and having people I don’t know ask me personal health questions that I don’t want to answer.

I hate that everyone thinks any time they talk to me is another opportunity to give unsolicited medical advice.

I hate living up to other people’s expectations of what a healthy person should be.

I hate living up to other people’s expectations of what being sick is.

I hate thinking about how or when I might die, because for me it might be a “when day” and not a “someday”.

I hate never feeling good enough, quick enough, or just “enough”.

I hate that my doctors know me better than my friends and some of my family.

I hate having to defend that I am a good mother, daughter, boss, or friend.

Most of all lately, I hate people who judge, and give me advice, or questioning stares of how I handle my diagnosis, or my life.

Basically I hate letting people see the effects of my disease. I don’t care if they know that I’m sick, I just don’t want them to see it, or deal with it.

So I try not to let them. In a funny way this puts me more back in control. I get to pick who knows the real me. I get to pick who to share my soul with. I decide who to let in. This isn’t a pride thing for me. I don’t worry about people thinking I’m weak because I know I am stronger then I can even imagine. Despite my disease there has been nothing in my life that I wanted to accomplish that I didn’t find a way to. It is like the scene in the Wizard of Oz when the wizard (talking about himself, in a big booming voice) “Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain”. When you watch the movie- everyone knows that the little man and the wizard are one in the same. But because of his presence, his knowledge and might I even say his Sass, the people want to believe in him. He hides his flaws with his smarts and pizzazz.

My main reason for trying to hide the effects of my disease is that I don’t want a watered down life. I don’t want the simplest option given to me because somebody thinks I can’t handle any more. I want to decide.

I want people to like me or love me because I am a good person, not because of the cancer.

Maybe having this disease taught me the skill of being a chameleon, mixed with the communication skills of a great
counselor, added to a touch of structure and organization from living by the clock and the pills. Maybe I am cautious because I am scared. I live in two worlds- the world of the healthy- where I put my best face out and do anything my heart is set to and I also live in the land of the sick. Here I am understood, but I don’t have that much fun. I worry, I rest. I follow rules, and I live a life in pain. The unfortunate thing- is you really can’t live for very long in two worlds. It is a dizzying, exhausting dance to be two different people. I guess I have grown up a bit. I quite simply do not have the desire to act anymore. This is who I am. Good days and bad. Sometimes, there will be days where I am the funny girl that you just can’t believe is sick. Then another day or week later- I may be that really sick girl who used to be funny. It’s all when you catch me. That is my official secret. I am out!

I am doing my best. What they don’t know is that this really isn’t me. What you see is a very calculated illusion of the woman I want to be. By all means I hate the word illusions. I hate the tone it puts out there for others to decipher, but being plain old sick Kay is worse

I want to have one world with one life- no acting- just me. I make no excuses any more for my choices, my feelings, my health. I am trying. I am me.

I wish I could tell the world all this and more, but sometimes I think the illusions are easier for the world to live with. Let’s make a deal, you can pretend I am healthy, and I can pretend I am happy. I am sure it will work for some time… but would it really be working? Does it really matter How you are feeling when you are asked?

I am shocked out of my sleep by the loss of breath. I anxiously gasp for another breath and it feels as though someone has punched me hard in the chest and I have a loss of air. This is the most startling way anyone could ever wake up. I wake up pulling for air as if a heavy brick is sitting on my chest, and the weight is unbearable. My lungs feel tight, exhausted, and tense, and for a brief moment I actually think I could die. Although it is a brief moment it is amazing how many morbid thoughts can fit into a few seconds. You think of death and dying, who you would leave behind, and how it would happen. I think of my own funeral often in these moments. I know in my calmer moments that this is not a realistic line of thought, but at 4am your mind goes places it probably shouldn’t. I am alone. What if I can’t pull that next breath of air in? I am scared, but this has become part of the routine. It is amazing what becomes normal to you if it happens often enough. No one should consider these thoughts and feelings normal.

I try to tell myself to calm down, lean forward, and relax. I repeat the word relax, over and over, until it becomes a mantra. This doesn’t help. I try to focus on my breathing. I feel silly like I am doing Lamaze without being pregnant. With every breath I take I feel my heart beat a little bit faster. I think I may have a fever; I am hot, sweaty and cold at the same time. I feel clammy and wet and I hate that feeling. Feeling gross, I want to peel my own skin off and shed anything that feels uncomfortable. I pull the blankets on and cuddle up for some sort of comfort, but I end up kicking them off a few minutes later in a fit of rage from being stuffy and too hot. I can’t find comfort and I get angry at myself, at life, at this disease. I pull air in as if I am sucking through a straw. My body and muscles feel like they are in a spasm. I am shaking. I am scared. I am alone. I could have a house full of people, a roommate, or someone I love sharing my bed, but in this instant I am alone in the dark. No one is awake to help me, nor could they even if they were. I can say with confidence that I am loved, but that doesn’t help when no one can help you, and everyone has tried. I don’t want to wake anyone up; they have their own lives that they cannot be late for in a few more hours. I don’t need anyone staring at me making me more conscious of how sick I have become. They mean well, but it is best I am alone. No one can help me and having anyone try gets embarrassing and futile. I feel more guilty and sad when they are trying, then for myself. It is the worst feeling in the world to feel scared and alone, sitting in a house filled with people who love you.

I feel like I am drowning, and I can’t catch my breath. I feel as though every muscle across my chest is black and blue, but the evidence of that is not visible. My body feels achy and cold. My bones are rubbing against each other and I can feel it in every joint. I never knew everything could hurt even your pinky finger, but it can and does. I feel like there is no lubrication, nothing to help my joints move freely and easily. If this pain had a sound, I could only imagine it to sound like metal rubbing against metal, loud, painful and screeching. I am so tired I can barely keep my eyes open, but pain doesn’t allow me to have rest. My eyes lids flutter and tear with exhaustion. I try to stretch my limbs in hopes that it would hint at my muscles to relax. I feel like I am pulling tight plastic rubber bands and everything is sore. I sit up, curl my knees up to my chest, wrap my arms around my legs, and slowly rock back and forth. I find comfort in the motion as I try to rock myself back to sleep. I have become my own mother, trying to give myself an ounce of sweet calm. I focus on each breath, trying to make each one count, letting the oxygen get nice and deep into my lungs. It hurts to do so, but I push myself knowing it is best.

Finally, I feel the shaking cease and the tremors are slowing down. My body seems to have given up and I am exhausted. I practically crawl to the bathroom grasping at every door jam or piece of furniture to hold myself up. I feel old; my body is not working, as a young person’s should. I feel eighty-five years old, like I should have a cane or a walker. If I close my eyes, I picture a gray haired women wrinkled, and hunched over. I am not that women, but I feel as though I know her well. I desperately look for the pills I despise, knowing that they are the only way for me to sleep soundly and be safe. I swallow them slowly giving myself a nice gulp of water with each one. My throat is tight from this breathing ordeal and I can feel each pill slowly, tightly slide down my throat. I hate the growing anticipation that one may get stuck, but thankfully it never happens.

Next I head towards the kitchen knowing if I don’t eat something, even crackers, that I will be up in another hour with my stomach in knots. I just took an arsenal of pills, and I need to coat my stomach for the war. I grab crackers and pepsi, the sick persons meal of choice and head back to bed. Although I already feel nauseous and way too tired to even attempt to eat, I force the crackers into my mouth. I have learned to talk myself into eating when I don’t want to. I hate the salty taste of crackers. They remind me of only one thing and that is violently throwing up. I usually eat them to avoid throwing up, but many times it doesn’t help. Now I associate the taste with that ugly action.
My body is still recovering as I can still feel my heart beat erratically. It is amazing how well you get to know your own body when being sick becomes your full time job. You learn to pay attention to the signals, and hints of possible problems. I have become a detective with my own symptoms, trying to decipher what each one means. I can feel each beat, each breath, and each sigh and I am scared.

I am not an overly religious person, but I do rely on my spirituality as I get desperate at this hour of the morning. I begin to pray. I plead and beg with a God. I have been angry at times at the exact God I am asking a favor from. Will he forgive me for cursing him for the pain I have been in? I try to make deals and talk my way into a miracle. I offer up possessions I don’t have, for a breath of air I want so badly. I would give up anything to make this go away. My brain starts to list off all the things I thought were important; cars, clothes, gadgets, and I realize that I would turn them all in, for one sweet taste of calm air. I want to breath without trying. I want to close my eyes without tears. I want to sleep without fear. I hope this is over soon. Over an hour has passed and I can start to see the sun rise. Dark midnight purple evolves into light pinky sky blue. I used to love the light peeking through the clouds, but now it just reminds me of the loss of night and beginning of a day I am not prepared to face. I am overwhelmed before the day even starts. I feel as though I have failed before I even begin.

Exhaustion wins in the battle over pain. I never remember how I fell asleep; I just wake up thankful that I did, and ready to start a new day. I am always amazed how at some point my head found the pillow and my body released enough to unravel and lay flat. The only evidence of this nightly ordeal is my twisted blankets and my lack of sleep. My face is tired, my soul is weary but I am happy to be breathing.

I have spent a better part of the past year taking a very close look at many aspects of my life

and deciding to listen to my inner voice of what is important and really "necessary". Sometimes it was a faint whisper, but at other times the voice was screaming yearning to be heard. It is hard not to listen to others, and to listen to your true inner voice. It is definitely not the easier road to follow your heart and listen to that voice, but sooner or later it is the road we all learn to take.

Eventually.

Everything we see on television or in magazines lead us to believe that the more we have the happier we will be. We see pictures of cars, jewelry, handsome men or pretty women having a great time, and

that is supposed to make us believe that we should buy whatever it is that they are selling. We buy things to fill our souls even if it is emptying our wallets. We keep friends around to keep us company because sometimes it is easier to be in a crowded room then it is to sit alone, even if while in the crowd, we still feel lonely. We do

what we are "supposed to" and what is expected. We do what is easy. We are taught that it is better to be skinnier, richer, or busier then we can or want to be.

Eventually something happened to me.

I got tired.

I got tired of living up to other people’s perceptions of what is right and what is good. I started to add things up. It was a certain kind of "life math" I had never done before. I started to think about money, friends, commitments, work and more. It seemed the more I to do, the less time I had for myself. I spend so much time running around, trying to keep up with all I did before I was sick. Although I knew the life of a healthy person comes with a different set of "rules", I was trying to ignore them. I tried to work, have a social life, a love life and still do the daily chores I needed to do to "keep up". I tried to forget I was sick. I tried to ignore that I needed to take care of myself. I reverted to the ways before I was sick and before my priorities changed. At the end of the day there was no time left for me or the simple things I enjoy. The time and energy it took to just keep up with everything and everyone else wasn’t worth it. I lived a cluttered life day to day with very little rewards. I was exhausted. Too much to do, too little time. Except in my case, time is not a luxury I have. I have limited time and energy… so what exactly was I spending my time doing? My days were filled but my life didn’t seem full.

I realized the more I "subtracted" from my life, the more I actually added to it. I am proud to say, the more I found ways to simplify, the happier I was, and am.

I now spend my time only keeping in touch with the friends who keep in touch with me. I will not spend time and energy I do not have on social commitments that do not add positively to my life. It’s quality not quantity. The less friends I have, the happier I have become because I am able to truly focus on the relationships that matter and the people who support me.

I took a good look at my calendar. It was filled with social, work, and family commitments that I did not enjoy or did not have the energy to do. I didn’t know how to say no. I felt like a "bad daughter" or friend if I did not attend everything. But by going to everything, I enjoyed nothing. I have learned to pick and choose 1 or 2 events or outings a week. I have learned to schedule in time to just relax, because that is just as important as anything else.

In the past I have worked extra jobs for the money to buy things I didn’t need like extra clothes, make up or other material things. I was running myself ragged and didn’t want to notice that my health was suffering. What was my time and energy worth? Why was I working for these things that in the end do not matter? My time is much better spent on things my heart wants to do like write, run, and create. I was making a nice living, but was I living a nice life?

I try to spend at least a little bit of every day doing something I enjoy. Even if it is just taking a walk with my puppy, or taking a bath. It is important to enjoy the simple things. If your heart and soul aren’t happy and healthy, then your body will not be healthy either. I have genuinely felt better the less stress I have had in my life. I am happy. There is no doubt that there is

a connection.

I now know that if the laundry doesn’t get done one day, it is ok. No one is keeping score if your bed is made, or if your socks match. I have learned that no one really cares how expensive your outfit is, or even if it was bought "this season". There are no extra points in

heaven for how clean your house is. The only reward at the end of the day is how happy you are and I am much happier with less.