I’m not sure whether...

I’m just good at fake smiling or if it’s just that nobody pays enough attention to notice that I‘m faking it, but it seems to be getting easier and easy to just come off as a happy person...whether I am or whether I’m not.

For as long as I can remember, my father told me that, “People hate miserable people.” and “People love happy people.” So, I tried to be happy all the time. I still do. I’m pretty good at it...I don’t want to make anyone else miserable. I don’t want to burden anyone else with the way I feel...and even it I did, there really isn’t anyone to do to anyway. So, I just keep on pretending to be happy. I’ve always said that if you can’t be what you want to be, act as if and sooner or later you will be. So...if I keep on acting as if I’m happy, sooner or later I just might be happy.

I don’t want to contradict myself and be unhappy but, just for the hell of it, I’m gonna do the opposite. I’m gonna tell you how I feel and if you think that that might make you miserable...then I apologize...stop reading now and I’ll be happy again later. I’ll even write something happy for you later on today so you won’t feel as though I am leaving out the “people who love happy people”.

Well, for beginners, I’m pretty sad and lonely. One by one, the people who matter the most to me have gone away. The people with whom I shared my time and my life are leaving me and I can’t quite figure out why. I’ve considered the fact that it may be something that I’ve done, but if so...I honestly don’t know what it is. Trying to figure it out is a very disheartening endeavor in itself. Anyway...with them gone, there are no more family meals, no one with whom to watch Jeopardy, no one to hold hands with during summer evening walks and no one to whom I can say...“Look at that sky...isn’t it beautiful tonight? Oh my God...did you see that shooting star!”

I’ve been in this house alone for a solid week and it’s been a very long time since anyone asked me to play cards, chat with them over coffee or watch a movie. I’m afraid to drive anymore so I can’t even go out to the library and read amongst people. I have no plans for New Years Eve and not a soul has invited me to go with them to a party. I’ll watch the Ball drop over Times Square alone in my living room.

I’m sad because I don’t understand why the people in my life don’t seem to care and I blame myself for some mysterious wrongdoing...after all, why would this be happening if I wasn’t doing something wrong...and why can’t I figure out what it is? I try to do the right thing and I pride myself on that truth. I pray for guidance but I don’t see any corridor leading me to some other code of ethics.

I keep having one health problem after another and it’s not that I can’t handle that crap...I’m actually getting pretty used to it. They call it acceptance. It’s just that I’m afraid of going through it all alone. I was alone in the emergency room the other night and that felt pretty pathetic.

I felt like a homeless person under that sheet. I felt it because that’s what I though the staff thought of me. Not homeless in the fact that I don’t have a home so much as that there wasn’t anyone there to claim me as their loved one. There was no one to worry about why I felt so badly and no one to bitch at that nasty staff for me. Like it or not, hospital...and nursing homes for that matter...don’t think much of people with no family. And, without irate families to contend with, many give lesser care. That’s a fact. Anyway, they certainly looked upon me with a non-caring attitude. I would never, ever...under any circumstances, treat another human being like that. I laid under that sheet and considered the dignity with which I have always accorded my patients and yet there I was...being dismissed by people who are PAID to care.

Of course...there are people who I’m sure care about me. My daughter is such a good friend to me. She loves me so much and for that I am grateful. But she has her own life in Chicago and I’m happy for her and proud of the life she is making for herself. My father cares, but he has taken in his sick ex wife and she pretty much takes up all of his time. I have friends in Chicago and Virginia, but like a moron, I left them all for my husband...one of the bigger bonehead moves of my life. Especially considering the fact that the reason for the move was to run away from one of my husband's most recent affairs, his idea, not mine.

Anyone, everyone has their own lives and that’s a good thing. I had one myself but I lost it.

I won’t get too deep into despair or anything stupid like that...I’ll just be sad for a while. They say that everyone gets sad at the holidays and I bet that’s all it is. I’m sure I’ll be better when the weather gets better, if not sooner.

See ya,

Meg