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Knowing me

I’ve been pondering how many members of my old community really knew me. You see in the last few years I’ve made friends in different circles.

There’s the work circle the guys who see me day in and day out (poor sods for putting up with me). They’re a good bunch. I really get on with them. And I’ve disclosed to some of them. They’ve been brilliant.

Then I have a small number of survivor friends they totally get me.

Then there’s the drama lot. I must say they’re totally wonderful. They’re so encouraging and supportive. They’ve accepted me as one of there own. Some know and others don’t. But it doesn’t even matter as I’ve had so much fun while being part of the group.

Back to the first paragraph, it’s never been the normal members of the community but the leadership, they never got me. It’s as though they struggled dealing with a grown man in so much pain as I was in.

One of my bug bears is I hate people talking about me in the third person, as if I’m not there. Or worse talking down to me. This really gets my goat up. I’d far rather people treated me like a normal person. The last time I saw any of them, one or two still couldn’t see the change in me and still talked down to me. It’s been a massive change, I’ve grown so much.


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