When I found out this morning that Lemmy Kilmister had passed away I cried. My father was in the room with me. He was aggravated that I was emotional about a man I didn’t know who was 70 years old and dead from cancer.
What my father couldn’t and wouldn’t understand was that Lemmy’s music and voice represented a time in my youth where things were good. I laughed, I left the house, I went to concerts, I had friends, and I did a good impression of The Ace of Spades that would make my best friend laugh until she almost wet her pants. It was that time I was grieving and the man.
I was also remembering my vacation to L.A. where we went to The Rainbow. A favorite spot of Lemmy’s. He wasn’t there but his motorcycle helmet was. My friend borrowed it for our ride back to our Hotel. It was the best vacation I’ve ever had. I will probably never have another one.
To be reprimanded for how you feel on a daily basis is tiring. I am constantly told I am too emotional. You try walking around like you don’t have a layer of skin protecting all of your nerve endings. Everything I see and everything I hear effects me. I can’t shut it off.
I know my medications are not working. I know I am not acting rationally. How many times do I have to explain I’m in kidney failure and not absorbing my medications? I’ve been manic for a week now. I want to hit myself in the head with hammer just to sleep. The pain on my right side where my kidney is only working at 20% is immense. I can’t take any pain killers. You try living like this. Sometimes I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t.
I still have not talked to my sister. Actually not many people talk to me at all. I’ve been forgotten. Everyone is making plans for New Year’s Eve. They do not include me. I’m used to this but it still hurts. I’m not allowed to show it.
When will I be allowed to be me?