me: it is separate, but you don’t have to buy it – you can read it all online if you’d prefer. it just might be easier in one file but certainly not required.
P: “OMG. You really are a human at the other end! Despite following your correspondence in minutiae for weeks, I’d somehow in the depths of my mind wondered if you, a real flesh and blood human, would write to me! I’m sort of over the moon. Electrically generated? Using a standard response and putting name at top to personalize it? These are some of my dark cynical thoughts. I’ve never done anything like this — reaching out to a support online. I’m trying anything new, and guess what, it’s working. I’m sooooo far out if my comfort zone (I’m a medical doctor used to telling everyone else what’s right and wrong, what the evidence shows blah blah. Big hypocrite).
Can you imagine running a drug and alcohol unit, dressed in your little nighty expensive suit, walking around writing drug charts, counseling and “knowing it all”, when knowing … that you’re messed up and out of control — not on the outside — that was as clear as day going to come one day, but the feeling of being a big fat phony and using my intellectualization as a big excuse. I’ve known that having degrees and money and fancy cars and beach houses doesn’t protect you — makes it easier to hide, but it does and will catch up. I’m nowhere near ready to tell my story. I couldn’t even put it into a journal and then burn.
But, Belle, whoever you are, this thing you’ve given birth to is the first time in 20 years that I see light and hope and freedom. I’ve had the best 8 weeks that I can recall since stumbling on The Bubble Hour and then to you. We are a similar age. Your words ring true and hit the notes that resonate. I get it. Thanks. I’m rambling and writing as getting the teenagers off to school.”
[update: she’s on day 1344 today]