Am I allowed to be honest?

How honest am I really allowed to be online? I feel abandoned. On June fourteenth, I went to the ER for chest pains and palpitations. The following weeks and months have been my own personal hell filled with...silence. I have been exhausted, in pain, and unable to drive and live as I used to. I have received a couple emails from my homegroupies; phone calls from Andy every couple of weeks; Amber, Amanda, Drew, Darrell, and Dominic have called me once or twice each to see how I'm doing; a handful of people (most of them distant friends) have written me on facebook or myspace; Mandy and Josh (in the short time that I have known him) have been indescribably encouraging in emails; Danny has offered to meet me half-way to hang out and Kevin (whom I met a only month ago) has offered to come all the way out to me to take me to civilization. Jason has come to see me several times (which has meant the world over to me) and I have heard of Andy, Amber and Mike actually asking others to pray with them for my health - for this I am the most grateful.

Time. My love language is time. Whether it's a simple note when I log online, a five minute phone call or (the absolute best) getting to actually hang out, it's how I give and receive love. I have heard so many wonderful stories of community at the Village. Time and again I have heard how much it has meant to those in need to have friends to support them through their rough times. I have always done my very best to be there for anyone and everyone - whether they were going through a good time or bad. Distance is no matter for me, as I've always had to drive ridiculous miles just to go to work or the grocery store. Not for the sake of having a favor returned, but because I care that much for everyone I have the privilege of meeting - it's how God wired me. Time is such a simple such and ridiculous concept. We place so much value on it and yet not enough.
And yet when I have a time of need...I'm alone. Unless I can come to them, my friends have seemingly forgotten me. The funny part is, when I actually try to call the people who have told me countless times that I can call them to talk when I need to, I usually get a voicemail or a promise for a return call - which may or may not actually happen. Matt constantly preaches the need to actually make an effort to create community. It will not happen on its own. I think I can say with all honesty that I have done everything within my power to do this. I have been open, I have been vulnerable, I have stepped out of my comfort zone - and to what avail? This isn't me throwing a pity party, this isn't even me getting angry. I write this with many tears to try to simply work out my frustration. There have been countless tear-filled nights in the last three months as I have fought off the anxiety and fear that have come with an unknown health issue and the pain and desperation that accompanies having only my immediate family to go through this with me. My goal in writing this is not to guilt anyone into communicating with me. I don't want false sympathy or pity. I want -- I want honesty. I want to have a homegroup that is actually close to me again. I want to live next door to all of my friends. I want to have my health problems resolved. I want to hit the next person who sends me some Bible verse but doesn't actually seem to care about me. I want people to stop telling me to pray and start praying for me.

We're hoping that my doctor may be on the right track to correcting my phsyical heart issues. Not all of the pain my heart is feeling can be corrected with medication though. Maybe I'm in the wrong for writing this. Maybe I'll delete this again before it's ever seen by anyone else. But I don't think it's wrong for me to be upset by this. I'm not angry; I'm deeply wounded. And I don't know what to do.