So, it was a rough couple of months well out in the woods, but thankfully, its over. I’ve been back in Orlando for a week now, loving the rush, the push, the swarms of people, the roughness of it, but the greatness of my old neighborhood, which I was able to find a small apartment in. I live now near the edge of Little Saigon and the Milk District, an old stomping ground only 2 blocks from the home George and I lived in for 7 years. I walk around often still, but now out of wonder, not out of necessity. I probably still walk six miles a day, but now it’s with the clamoring of people on bikes, of events in the park, of people walking their dogs on leashes. I can’t tell you how much better I feel. How enthusiastic I am, how so involved I want to be in everything around me that I’m even considering contacting all the little gay groups around town to see what I can do to volunteer my time.
I still haven’t found work, but I’m still pushing my knitted things on Etsy. My teddy bears are adored, and to those little bears I owe my life. Mario cuddles up with me often as I knit. She’s happy, too. She feeds off my energy. If I’m depressed, you rarely see her. If I’m feeling joyous and grand, you can be assured she’s right by my side.
I’m working on a second installment of “MAD MAN KNITTING,” with the working title being “-or-Will Knit For Food” about my time out in the woods, about what I learned through isolation and depression, and what self sufficiency skills I had to adopt if I was going to feed myself, or even better yet, get out of that situation. Look for it in early summer of this year.
I wanted to take this opportunity to thank a few people who beyond a doubt helped me to discover something about humanity that I never really considered: that friends come in all shapes and sizes, and that new ones rest behind every new corner you turn. Kevin Kling, you adorable thing, has never met me, but upon one investigation into my story was compelled to do what he could to help. The anonymous woman in Australian, who wished for no thanks, no gift in return, just a promise of paying forward, who rushed to my aid via an email. My mother, to whom on this approaching Mother’s Day I could never thank enough, for sacrificing, striving, and smiling often, traveling often to see me when loneliness got the best of me. To Lily in Canada, whose support of my craft proves that the bounderies decided by our states do not hold back friendships. And especially heartfelt thanks to Julie Anne, whose heart and concern for my depression she took upon as a soldier of information, guiding me, supporting me, and proving to me that the slightest gesture, the listening ear, could do valuable things. To her I owe so much. I truly do.
Thank you all for following my blog, for reading about the trials I’ve been through and for your support in my finally being able to maturely say good-bye to Oak Hill. I thank you for your prayers.
And now? The next chapter begins….I can’t wait!