gratitude-a-thon day 918: tell someone

Me yesterday. Not even kidding.

Just like they say about the lottery–you can’t win if you don’t play.

That’s how yesterday was for me. Except there was no lottery, or ticket, or money.

I woke up yesterday and the magnitude of Ally going to college hit me like an 18-wheeler going 200 miles an hour (can they go that fast–what do I know about 18-wheelers?). I was  steeped in sadness. My interior felt splintered into teeny tiny bits of misery. I felt fragile and wildly overwhelmed by a thick black haze. I haven’t cried like I cried yesterday in a long, long time. I was like a human Niagra Falls. No shutting me off. I wondered if someone would try to get in a barrel and slide down me.

But here’s the lame lottery analogy: I wrote about it, and out of the woodwork came unexpected kindness. A call from an old friend. An FB wall post about fucks not to give (everybody knows that my mood will instantly improve if there are fucks involved), some texts, some more calls. And those who reached out, reached me. Not that I could stop crying, because I couldn’t (I am a blowfish today, a blowfish, I tell you). But because when you share, you are not alone. And when you are not alone, you can bear just about anything.

Whatever you’ve got going on, tell someone. In a text, call, email, Instagram,  FB post, or an old fashioned letter. Make a fucking fire and send a smoke signal if you have to. There’s no need to go it alone. We are meant to help one another. We are all we’ve got.




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