In which I realize how little I need to live...
I'm thinking about what Otter said, this "weakness" we have about accepting help from others. I am very much like that: during these past nearly 6 months of pain, frustration and sadness, I asked very little from my friends and family.
Oh yes, my kids were there to pick me up from the hospital, and stop by with a few groceries. but they offered to do so much more, and I said I was fine.
The same from friends: can we take you out for a meal, or do some shopping, or cook for you, but you know, I'm good.
I have come to realize that I really don't need a lot of help and, in fact, I like trying to comfort myself. I'm pretty good at it: if my body is aching, I'll take a bath; if I'm craving food, well, I'll just cook something. If I really need to mellow out, I'll smoke some weed. It's all good.
I know this offends and maybe even puzzles my friends. They are my friends, they love and support me, and they want to "be there" for me (after all, I'm always there for them), but I just don't need it. I'm a cactus.