"Thigh High Panty Hose, Please"

Of late, in the interests of recovery (I have a lot of work to do, and would like to get my health, etc into gear so I can begin on the next steps of my 5-10 year plan, and hope to really make doctors scratch their heads when I do not fulfill their prognoses of early death (I want to meet my great great grandchildren, at least!) ) I've had to under go more rounds of medications to correct problems caused by other medications, in the fond hope that eventually, they decide to get off their asses and fix the problems so I can go without having to strip down and administer migraine meds by injection, so that weeks DON'T go by in which I either drag and wear sunglasses permanently (And so I can get rid of black out curtains, as I hate dark houses), in which I am not, and cannot be, of use to anyone, in which, to roll out of bed to go to the bathroom is like walking a tightrope, or crawling across one, and which any conversation I'm forced into is forcebly cheery or contains, when I'm at my worst, the observation that the light hurts/ is causing vision disturbances, or contains a variation of "Please, God, kill me now"...  I am also attempting to take care of environmental needs... and removing things that I know are wrong for me. Unfortunately, this includes people. A friend I respected highly, and have done acting work for, had voiced interest. Because it conflicted with my view of said friend, as a friend, and yet, no romantic interest, I kept said person at arms' length. Because I respected them, and could not bring myself to broach this. Also, when they are people whose jobs you can list in a resume, this is not ok, and is a huge no-no. (Because, otherwise, what was he supposed to tell people, "Yeah, she's a great little worker, always willing to please?") This is in the past. To offer "Help" with a request for thigh high panty hose and um... personal depillation requirements? OK, when you delivered my paycheck from said acting gig, and I was as sick as a freaking dog from bronchitis and side effects of medication, and I passed out on you, you claimed to have carried me to bed. My natural alarms are going off, now. What did you do to tuck me in? Your not taking no for an answer and being angry when I tell you I give no favors for favors, nor will they be asked for by me, tells me something. Actually, it helps me to be more anxious. As part of need for recovery, and out of fear, I'm doing this. I don't care that you're a friend to a close friend of mine. You're toxic, you're creepy. You're out. Friends don't allow their friends to feel fear of them. 

For the last time, among the things I'd do before I ask for help, breastfeeding a rabid mountain lion, and/or undergoing female circumcision with a piece of rusty barbed wire are at the top. I'm going to spend a few days getting ready. I won't be able to eat/ speak correctly (or as correctly as I do now, speech deficits not withstanding) and since it's a "holiday" (or reprieve from Lent), I'm going to enjoy it. Period.