On choking on jello

Dear God,

I am writing you now because you obviously have not been reading my mind. I am losing weight like crazy it wont be long till I start heroin. I am also bulimic because no food will stay down. Remember how this surgery was supposed to make everything ok? And by the way, where is my memory reader? I have two and my bedroom is only so big. Okay its pretty big for a bedroom and I do like the dark purple paint on the walls and the elephants and other art. And how the animals come in here to chill with me as I mentally stay alert while my body contorts itself.

I am so revulsed by my state of physical being, I retreat deeper inside. My faith is never questioned. I know I survive by will alone, I know that darkness is two steps behind me and if I must, I will fall forward, crawl with my fingers, forward, always forward. This path, my life path, for all the pain, has allowed me to love deeper, to know you God and to walk in faith.

Without a specific religion, besides one of kindness and compassion, I do your will. Big and small and always. Because I can, because I must.

As you know, I am a born giver. I recognize it is time to receive, that the well will never be dry but its pretty low. I welcome true and loyal friends into my existence. I welcome a good and true man, a man who is not without faults but owns them and keeps the faith, is with good humor and is capable of knowing himself, knowing me.

Back to my body.

I will always be a short person with a tall persons attitude, which is why you made me tough, the few fights I've gotten into have been with men, when I see red its all over. I am sorry for the physical pain I've caused but aren't you glad I never got a gun?!

God, you have such a great sense of humor. I don't think people give you props for that.

I ask as always that you look out for people, accept them into heaven and that God, you give me a chance to serve.

I hate wearing this hair shirt, I can't count how many scars I have on my stomach anymore. How many iv's I've had put in, how I make my surgeon laugh when he is watching the barbed wire medicine go through my veins and all I can do is clench.

I leave it in your hands to heal me, I will do my best down here, I am alone in this one and I have people depending on me.

In a few hours the barbed wire will be back, I will hear "You look dehydrated." for the 400th time. I will count ceiling tiles and remember the nurses names, their stories and faces so familiar now.

Thank you for my life and I'm trying. Always trying.