Dear Maz,

I miss you.  I wish you were here.  You were always such an important sounding board for me.  For the last few years I’ve been going it alone and making a lot of bad decisions – I suppose there have been some good ones thrown in there too.

You were always so good for my head… for getting my priorities in order… Right now I don’t know what I’m doing.  I’m getting dragged down so low that some nights I’m finding it hard to claw my way back out.  What do I do?  Who do I go to now without you?  Everyone tries to help – but you just knew stuff.  You just knew what to say, what advice to give… you always just knew.

I’ve been sick Maz. When you used to tell me you were sick of being sick all the time, I was sympathetic but I really didn’t “get it” until the last 12-months.  I’ve been on so many medications and creams that I’m toxic – they stuck a warning to my door in the hospital, had to wear special gloves just to touch me.  Not that I could think at the time (because my brain was cooking) but now I’m starting to realise what all that means.  The things that are meant to be helping me are destroying my insides at the same time.  How did you do it? How did you pick yourself up and get so much life out of the good days?  I find myself working so much I’m not even sure what time of day it is? I’m stuck though… what other choice do I have…? The bills haven’t stopped… Our solar contract is already signed and in progress, our house is literally falling apart.  I mean, the toilet doesn’t even work properly at the moment – its lucky we have two.  I’m working harder and harder to try and fix things as they happen – but more things are happening… Our list is getting longer and longer and I’m just tired. So tired.

I’ve had Staph for the past 6 weeks.  Antibiotics stopped working a while ago… I’m embarrassed of the way I look but I have to try and ignore it and just get on with things.  Steroid cream isn’t working anymore… Every time I do something simple like shower the sores bleed and bleed… All I can do is shove Benadine in them and hope tomorrow it’ll look just a bit better…

I’ve had 6 days off work this year already… and the pressure is on. I can feel everyone talking behind my back about how sick I am – I can hear it too. How I might not last much longer.  I didn’t choose this Maz.  I wish that they have of woken me up and told me it was in my head, that there was nothing there.  I still have fantasies that when I go to a review the doctor tells me there’s been a big mistake and he can cure me with a tablet.. it’s unhealthy, but I can’t seem to stop.  The bullying and the backstabbing are taking their toll and I wish I could say that it was just at work. It’s worst at work but even my friends have joined in. I’m so hurt by it – I’m so hurt by it all but I can’t show it because that’s weakness and the world would stop spinning just to swallow me if I indulged in my weakness even for a second.

I’ve felt my short remission slipping away for months but I’ve stayed quiet.  I don’t want to admit that it’s over already after the price I paid.  I think it is, I think my tests in a few weeks will confirm it… will point to be lying about my exhaustion and joint pain… I paid such a high price for just a few weeks where I was sick with infections and viruses that the Prednisone opened the door for.

Surgery is next and I need it to be after New Zealand this year… I can’t keep going without a break and I won’t have a break if I stay here… I’ll keep working.  Keep pretending I’m fine.  My trepidation over surgery is gone and if I could live without my small bowel I’d tell them to take it all.  I can’t though so I’m clinging to the chance I’ll never get this bad again, that they can stay ahead of the disease.  I’m clinging to the chance I might be able to lead a normal life for a year, maybe two, maybe longer. It’s been so long I’ve forgotten what a normal life is.

I’m in a dark, bad place… You always were able to make me see light.  Now it’s Ross… who can somehow read my troubled mind almost as well as you used to be able to. Did you leave him with that uncanny ability?  He is a good man Maz – the best.  He is lost without you too – I think sometimes that’s why we connect the way we do, because we’re two lost souls looking for that little bit of “you” you left in each of us… that spark of you is a gift and I treasure it – even in these dark times.  I’m sure you left me with your fight – I’m sure of it because even with everything going on and my health having deserted me a year ago there’s no way I’m going to give up… maybe it’s your stubbornness? Either way I’ll keep playing the game for as long as I’m still a player.

I suppose this letter is pointless – you’re never going to get it.  While I’ve been writing it though – I’ve felt just a little more connected to you, maybe that’s the point of it… maybe that’s all I needed.

I still miss you Maz and I wish you were still here with Ross and I and everyone else who ever knew you.  You were so special – you still are even you’re only living in my memories.

I better go – the real world wont seem to leave me alone for long.

Love me.