The past nine months have been truly horrific for me, and these last few days of tragedy coupled with my own bipolar springtime suicidal ideation edging into summer homicidal tendencies are trying every last atom of my nerves. If I seem sharper than usual, my eyes brighter and more glittery, please know that it is not with happiness. Please know that I am on the sharpest edge possible. I am keeping my shit together with the most Herculean of efforts.
If you’re a friend of mine, know that I love you. Very, very much. If you’re reading this, know that I love you. Even if we’ve never met.
You are loved. You matter. Everything is terrible and it can always get worse. The only thing constant is change. Be the boat on the waves, not the rock in the ocean. This too shall pass and it is all for the good.
And in the immortal words of my dead husband, “you’re still going the right way.”