Saturday, December 15, 2018

Goodbye My Friend, Jimmy Sullivan

Hello My Little Buttercups...............

This post is really hard for me to write, but I have to do it to honor my friend and deal with my emotions. I have had some sangria, and I am listening to some alternative music by candlelight.

 For Starters, here is his blog:

Jimmy died last Saturday, and I didn't know until Monday morning when Luly said she saw something on Facebook but wasn't sure. Something in my gut told me it was true. I immediately called his phone, and fully expected it to go to voicemail. I was about to resign myself to the fact that I would have to speak to a machine/recording, but his sister answered the phone. I was just so relieved that when I called his number, it was answered one last time, even if it wasn't him. His sister saw that my name was saved in his phone, and took my call. She said she was finding out that he had a lot of friends. She was trying to keep it together, but I could tell she was about to cry at any moment, and I felt so bad for her, and didn't want to take up any of her time or energy, but I was so relieved to get her, and so grateful she took my call.

I first started blogging in 2003 met Jimmy online around 2007/2008 when it was AOL Journals. Then around 2008, AOL decided to stop hosting blogs, and said we could transfer everything to Blogger, which we both did. We kept reading each others' blogs and commenting, but never thought much of it, I never thought I would end up moving to Florida.

But in a twist of fate, I did move to Florida, and I met Jimmy and another blogger, Ileana in 2014 at his favorite watering hole, Area 51. He would always talk about about "Area 51", his favorite bar in Miami Springs.

Life is funny. I was so unhappy in California, and wanted so desperately to move to Florida. I was reading Ileana's blog and I was so envious of her life in tropical Florida as an artist. I never thought I would also meet Jimmy, but through her I also met Jimmy, and was finally able to put the pieces together and see for myself "Area 51" and hear his witty jokes in person.

Though Jimmy was almost forty years older than I, he had a witty and twisted sense of humor that I loved. I stole a lot of his jokes and punchlines over the past ten years. We both also had a love for cats. He would always talk about his cats, Samantha and Scooter.

Jimmy's death has hit me much harder than I expected. I have been on Prozac for the past four years to manage my depression, and this drug has been a life saver. My depression has been kept at bay, and has allowed me the ability to do thinks like stare at a wall and simply enjoy the silence. But when Jimmy died, it's as if my depression has come out to play with me. It's like an old, familiar bad influence has come out of hibernation to tell me that he has been thinking of me, that he always knew I would be there for him.  No matter how much I try to hide it,  we are tied together. He wants me to join him. He wants me to relive the old days with him, when I would isolate myself and cry, or isolate myself and watch tv from dawn to dusk, or just lie in bed or on the bathroom floor because the weight on my chest was too heavy. No matter where I go, there it is, even if it's dormant. It's always there, just waiting to be awakened.

Though Jimmy was in his seventies and had some health issues, somehow I thought he would be around for much longer. I guess I thought his witty personality and jokes alone would carry him at least into his eighties. I thought he had a lot more time. Also probably because I am in my late thirties and haven't experienced a lot of loss, compared to most people, which has been a huge blessing, but at some point it comes to and end. I guess I took him in general for granted, even though I didn't mean to. I just always thought I could call him and he would answer the phone. Jimmy's death woke me up and gave me a good shaking because I am not getting any younger, this is life, and death will visit and pluck my loved ones from me one by one, and if it doesn't, it's because it's my turn. It's just going to happen, there is nothing I can do, and one day, this will be me. No amount of wishing otherwise can change that.

This has made me question my own mortality. Where is Jimmy now? Is he watching what is going on and is confused by what is going on? Does he know I care and that I am really sad? I know he wouldn't want me to be sad, but I can't help it. It doesn't go away.

When it's my turn, will I just be dormant and asleep and I'll never know I existed, or will I be witnessing everything happening without any ability to comfort anyone? Will anyone care that I am gone? Have I made any impact at all?

Life goes on. I have depression and sometimes I struggle, but in the end I am grateful to be alive and for life in general. I get to experience the world as life goes on here, and I have friends here. I still have a lot of loved ones that are living, and I want to be here with them. I have the curiosity to live as long as I can to see where my life goes, until it's over. When that time comes, I really hope I will be reunited with those that have left. But honestly, I don't know what will happen, and for that I am sad. I don't know if I will ever see those that have departed. I am relatively detached from the spiritual world, even though I have some belief in it.

I am going to bed now, I may or may not come back to made edits to this. I just had to get this out. If Jimmy were still here, he would be reading it. He always read what I wrote, and listened to what I had to say.