WHEN IT GETS REAL

     Facebook has been many thing to me.  A way to reconnect with old classmates, co-workers, and family.  A place to escape to tiny farms, zoos and mystery crime scenes.  Along with that came "friendships" with people from all over the world to help me complete the latest mission.  After nearly four years, many, many of those people have become real live friends...just not readily available "live".  But, that is the case with most classmates, and many family.


     I joke about my "addiction" to Facebook, and that may be accurate....okay, that is accurate.  But, with limited capabilities due to physical and mental issues, it makes the time go by, and I've come to depend on the fellowship, as my budget does not allow for actual socializing.  And some of the most caring people are inside this little box, because they, too, are unable to work outside the home due to illness of their own or a loved one.


     I've been able to keep up on breaking news, sad, mad and glad.  The one that stands out the most is seeing the breaking story of bin Laden's demise.  I was the first in my list of friends to see, and posted: "Ding dong, the bastard's dead! bin Laden has been killed!"  And it was like fire to gasoline across Facebook!  Of course I was sobbing like an idiot, but as I watched post after post declare victory over this dark, monstrous figure, I was in awe of the capabilities of today's communication.


     And the causes from A - Z that people fight for are amazing.  I've always considered myself pretty open minded, but thanks to some pages, some videos am right there in the fight.  That is how my own page, Climb, came about.


     The concept came from hundreds of other "feel good" pages offering inspiring quotes and pictures for those needing a pick-up on any given day.  And some of those pages were funny, to boot!  But, the "cause" that I adopted, was one I was seeing cross my page by local kids, struggling with self-image, and being bullied and called names by teachers.  It had to stop.  It HAS to stop!  The number of kids committing suicide each day is staggering.  And Climb was born.


     It was a slow climb, though.  I searched the web for great, positive words that would give a child in turmoil some peace.  Slowly, the numbers grew, and then I started creating my own.  My writing gift finally had a home.  And it was appreciated.  I now stand at nearly 700 "likes", and thousands of followers.  And that's how I met Jakob.


     I got a friend request a few weeks ago from a 13 year old boy, named Jakob.  It threw me for a loop, because I'd been scammed online before on a dating site.  How do I know this kid is really 13 and not some lonely 48 year old creep? I went to his page, which was--lucky for me--fully accessible. And there I saw his story.  Still slightly skeptical, I confirmed the request, and within 1/2 hour he popped up to chat.  I asked him how he found me, and he said my picture popped up and I looked like an "awesome person to talk to." Aaahh, we had a friend in common....so I asked him if he was friends with that friend, and he "haha'd", and said "yeah".


     Jakob was adopted somewhere around ten years ago.  Forgive me, I can't remember  every detail.  Shortly after the adoption of him, and his brothers, his father was killed, leaving his Mom with three young boys.  Not long after, when Jake was 7-ish, he was diagnosed with leukemia.  Since then life has been in and out of hospitals.  And through all that his body was fighting, the kids were fighting him.  They made fun of him for being bald (due to  chemo), smaller, and behind in his studies due to the amount of time away from school.  They pushed him, punched him, you name it they did it.  And they knew that doing so could break one  of his worn out bones...or kill him.  There was no reasoning with the school.  Jakob never fought back.  Because he's been taught that to do so could hurt him.


     I talk to Jake everyday.  At his suggestion, I friended his mother.  He said she needed someone to talk to, too.  He was right.  Jake is not doing very well.  After all, his body has been fighting this disease for seven years.  He told me a couple days ago, that on "bad days" he is unable to sit up, let alone get out of bed.  He is even unable to roll over in his sleep.  I could not imagine.  Even on my worst days, I can make my way to sitting up.  He is struggling with malnutrition because he is often sick, with fevers of 103 degrees, and can't keep anything down.  But, in order to get his pain medication down, he must eat something.  He is in so much pain, that some nights he does not sleep.  He just keeps squirming to get comfortable.  And by his side, trying to coax a cracker and some juice into him, is his mother.


     Saturday night, his mother told me what he had told me in less eloquent words..."We all know he doesn't have much time."  How, I asked her, does she get through each day knowing this?  After seven years, she's had time to prepare, in a way.  And, as she watches him get worse this past year, would rather he out of pain.  


     He's gotten worse just in the few weeks I've "known" him.  Much weaker.  Can't keep anything down.  Last night, while talking to his Mom, he had awakened and gotten sick.  Again.  Another trip to the hospital may be in order.  There has not been recent talk of doing the surgery on his brain for tumors found.  He can't stay well (no virus/fever) long enough.


     Facebook got real the day Jakob friended me.  I'm honored to be someone he can talk to, in a world that has left him without buddies, other than his brothers.  His spirit is amazing, and I thank him for sharing that with me. After telling me that "this thing is gonna kill me" (followed by a :( ), he proceeded with how glad he is to have been adopted my his Mom, and shared his life with her, and what a great momma she is. That she is.


     Jakob turned 14 a couple of weeks ago.  I wasn't sure if I should have wished him a blessed coming year, or to tell him to do the best he can, and look forward to the pain-free glory that will be his, sooner than seems fair.

IT'S LIKE THAT

     When I started this blog, it was going to be about what it was like to live with numerous ailments and raise a son as a single mom, among other things.  I'm not sure I've done that.  Today, I need someone to talk to.  A real person.  The kind of person that makes your skin feel warm because they hugged you.  As much as I love my Facebook world, I can't feel the virtual hugs....though they are greatly, immensely appreciated!

      Today I am grateful that it is not so windy and the sky is blue, but I observe it alone. This pains me and satisfies me at the same time. I am in a strange flux in my life. Glad to be my own person, but not so keen of the lack of companionship.  I've vowed time and time again that I will never answer to anyone but myself again.  But it would nice if someone smiled because I was here waiting for them.  I'm alone, but not always lonely.  But, today, it's like that.  Very lonely.  Very teary. And not able to let the tears out because my son hates it when I cry.  

     He doesn't know what to do with tears, how to help, so he gets angry.  My Dad was the same way.  So, I float.  Treading months of built up tears.  Mom always said I had nothing to be depressed about; others have it much worse.  To this day I refuse to say that to anyone.  Although, it's true so many people are worse off than I, my pain is MY pain to endure.  So, it's like that.  Tears to cry, not in public, because I don't deserve to be depressed.  But today, I am sad. 

     Sad that I can't be telling this to someone while they hold me and even pretend to care.  Sad that this past four years have been so hard on my son, and I can't make things all better for him.  Being a teenager is hard enough without the things he's been forced to experience.  And I'm sad that I can't scrape for enough money to buy him the things he wants.  And that sometimes I do, at the expense of the gas or water bill.  Then fret about how to pay them...yep, it's like that.

     I've become too comfortable in my little apartment.  After several years of not socializing due to money shortages, I now find myself dreading having to go anywhere.  I'm not at agoraphobic yet, but it is serious enough that my son encourages me to get out.  No, not so he can be home alone with the guys--some weekends he is with his Dad--but even at 15 he knows that no one should be so isolated.  So...it's like that, too.

     And, it's fearing that with my long laundry list of ailments, and depending on disability for income, no man on Earth will be interested enough--if I ever do leave the apartment---to get past that garbage and accept me for what I know I am.  Funny, intelligent, kind and creative, with a bit of kooky thrown in.  Cause it's not what they want to put up with, or even believe I suffer...cause it's been like that, too.

     So, now it's like this.  I dry my eyes, and smile when my son comes in the door with tales of fish caught in our local creek, while goofing off with his buddies. He has so many great friends.  Good guys. And I'm proud of his decisions on who to hang out with.  He's not perfect, and at times we don't talk for the entire day....but, he's a teenager...and.... they're like that.