I hope I'm not the last to go

[orleans]

6. dear anniebelle

i didn't mean to sound flip or cold when i replied to you the other night. (i am concerned that i may have given you the wrong impression.) i most definitely meant to send you that hug.

i started writing several things and backspaced to erase them--struggling to find the right words. and, finally, i decided no words were right--just a hug.

but now, it's earlier in the evening, and i'm more coherent than i was at two in the morning so let me say that your post brought tears to my eyes, that i'm so sorry you have lost so much and that you are as alone as are, that i'm glad you have rescued and take care of your furry companions, and that my heart is heavy and i empathize with what you are going through.

i, too, continue to struggle with my grief, and i know how absolutely deep that well of darkness gets. while i so often feel alone and isolated, i do have my daughter and my little doglet, and a couple friends i can talk to. i guess i tend to isolate myself rather than reach out to them. i'm not sure why but i would guess i don't want to "burden" them more than i absolutely *have* to, i feel i have poured my heart out to them enough these past six years since i lost my mom, and that, in some strange way, my sorrow and grief has begun to turn more inward--as if it is more private now. and i can just imagine/hear my mother saying to me: "you are in a serious state of depression" and perhaps i am.

and that kind of sounds like a place you might be as well. and i am so very sorry.

so the other night, i read your post and i cried, and felt i could offer you nothing--i had no uplifting words, no advice, no solution, no salvation ... and in my mind i put my arms around you and cried along with you. and at the time i just couldn't seem to put it into words.

and i have thought of you between then and now, with sadness and with love, and i'll be thinking of you again and hoping there are mornings and nighttimes that you find peace and comfort, where you smile, and sing, and temporarily forget what brings the sadness. (i wish that for me as well--for all of us here.)

after reading your reply to kesha i will offer up a small bit of advice--turn off the damn news. it's a drain on your energy and it's never positive (which, i suppose, is what makes it "news worthy&quot . for several years after i lost my mom i stopped all news. i didn't have the heart for it, couldn't do a thing about it, and i was broken enough without it beating me up day after day and making me feel worse than i already felt. and while being out of the loop as far as news and politics went obviously didn't "cure" me from my depression, i feel that i eliminated something that otherwise would have contributed to me feeling worse. when i wanted to watch tv and just veg out i realized sitcoms didn't make me start feeling anxious or distressed so i stuck to those. mostly i still do.

sometimes i feel like it would help me so very much if someone would just tell me "it's going to be okay" -- i think even if it's not okay now, it *will* be...eventually it *will* be. and on those extremely rare occasions when someone actually does tell me that it makes me feel a bit better, a bit relieved, a bit assured.

i don't know if those words will have the same effect on you, but just in case--i want to tell you...

anniebelle, it's going to be okay.
i promise.