Yesterday evening I was made to write a letter for myself via the Seneca. Ironically it was a very emotionally difficult day for me and I had a lot to write about. Though I don't particularly wish to share all the details here I do want to share a part of that letter.
That part is how important my friends are to me. Though yesterday's shit-show there were so many people that I could turn to for advice or just freak out about to.
There was L, who told me to have strength when I couldn't take another step forward.
T, who told me that talking about it would definitely make me feel better and offered advice of his own.
K, who told me to follow my heart (hah, most succinct advice).
S, who reminded me that I'm not the only one with these problems and that my experiences can help others through theirs.
A, who left a sea salt brownie on my desk after hearing about what happened
C, who brought me a bag of sunchips after she heard it was my comfort food
D, who listened to all my problems and consoled me through them
R, who didn't question my need for a hug but just offered his services
and S walked with me for an hour and a half, all the way into Boston when I could hardly even walk straight.
Of course there are others as well, who have been so great. Writing that, and other parts of the letter, was all part of a cathartic healing process. As I folded, stuffed, and sealed the envelope it was with the knowledge that this feeling, all these feelings were transitory. But where-ever I am when I receive that letter I look forward to remembering or reinforcing the knowledge that there are people around me who care, and people who I need to take care of in turn.
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