Yeah, so it’s about as quiet as a buffalo farting after a chili-fest around here (hehe, to the person reading this who gets that reference), whatwith the end of the year approaching and my faulty kidney deciding to kick itself again. More on that later. I’m fine, at home, and resting. K? Yes, NotKay, I promise to phone if I need anything, including assistance in buying bulk products of freezable goods.

Before I continue, I want to say a small but huge thank you to some angels who appeared on Friday night. I just want to thank them for getting a little girl’s mama home safely, albeit without car and/or sanity. So, for you, Megum, I am thanking the angels.

And now, for what this post is really all about.

Someone I know, someone I respect and admire from afar. Someone whose family is in my thoughts. I want to write this person a letter. If it bores the rest of you, I don’t really care much this evening. What I care about, is that in her hell, I don’t want her to feel alone.

For you, you know who you are. I found you with a little help from a friend, and read up on what’s occurred. I am so sad for you, and those around you. My heart in my throat when I read of your pain.

But, there you are, brave with your pain. Brave with your ending and beginning again and brave with your tears and not afraid to tell the world why you are. Brave for your loved ones, and braver still to face up to the lies around you.

I want you to know that I’ve been there. I’ve been there when you discover the lies. The untruth. The unexplained obsession with things that would normally not seem out of bounds but suddenly mean the world. I’ve been there when you cannot deny the truth to yourself and worst of all, to anyone else.

I’ve been where you are. On that landscape of rock and sheer cliff-face. And it’s not just fucking scary. It’s beyond hell.

I’ve been there when your reaction is to say “I don’t know what to do” and hope like shit that some direction will come. I’ve been there when the walls of your home sound like they are crumbling within themselves and you cannot hold them up because your arms can no longer reach.

I’ve also been there, when you have to build them again.

I want to tell you something that got me through the day that I discovered the end of my world. What I didn’t know then, was that it was just the beginning. But that’s not important to you right now and it really shouldn’t have to be. Right now all you can think about is surviving this torrent and that’s the right thing to do.

A friend said to me, on the day my walls crumbled:

Cry. Cry until your eyes won’t run any more.
Scream. Scream until your voice falters and does not cooperate.
Be sad. Be sad until your feeling is ended.
Write. Write until your hand falls off.
Loathe. Loathe until you feel numb from it all.
Go robotic. Go robotic until your auto-pilot clocks out and Mission Control has to take over.
Feel. Feel everything right the way through until it’s as thin as rice paper.
Do not apologise for any of it.

But, don’t. Don’t let it get the better of you.

If I were worried about your ability to do this, to make it through it, I would have said so in the beginning. But, I’m not. You’re strong. Yes, only the strong can admit to being weak so, stop berating yourself and remember that you are strong. And I know you are.

Because you threw the chair.