I never felt I belonged anywhere. I felt “outside”. Even within my family, I felt like I didn’t quite belong there. Still do.  Why I feel this way, I don’t really know. I made a decision decades ago, that with exceptions, the people I knew just didn’t want to be around me. I’d want to call and ask if they wanted to go to the movies or something, but something inside me stopped me by telling me I’d be wasting my time.

This nonsense was amplified when I became brain injured and then homeless. Added to these feelings was an embarrassment and shame due to my inability to discuss contemporary culture. How can you watch the latest, hottest shows go to the theater or even read a book when you have no attention span, or even access to a tv?

Two years ago, I hospitalized myself because jumping out a window seemed a good idea. I am dealing with major depression. I lived in shelters for about a year –  you can read my series “The Sheltered Existence” on this blog it wasn’t a great experience, it wasn’t bad, either. it was what it was.

I’m in a stable environment, and was just getting myself stable, when Stage 1 breast cancer kneecapped me. Diagnosed in March, surgery in May, Chemo began in June. It’s amplified my depression. It’s made somewhat of a prisoner in my 200sq ft of studio.  Just because I get dressed and decide to go out, doesn’t mean it will happen.

I’m going to be live streaming the Farewell to My Hair, as enough of it has fallen out to reveal islands of scalp. My friends will be watching from California to hear in NYC and cheering me on. Tonight, I found out that crazy improvisers from the Magnet Musical Mixer miss me.

Truthfully, it made me cry.
I don’t feel too much of an outsider anymore.