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I was mentally fucked up. I'd gotten through high school & 3 years of college w/out falling apart, but at 23 the shit hit the fan. I entered a mental hospital, was there for two months, and from 23 to 30 I -- I don't really know how to describe it; I was just completely mentally and emotionally fucked up. I had to lean on everyone around me to get through the days. I took and took and took -- time, energy, support, from everyone who could offer it (and some as couldn't). Roommates asked me to move out. I lost jobs. My sisters were afraid of me (we've never discussed this, and I wasn't aware of it at the time, but looking back I see it clearly). I was angry, full of rage and irrational, and I know some people had to see me in a rage from time to time, although I don't remember who or when that would've been.
Christie may remember me before I boiled over, but she was there when the shit that fucked me up was going on. I doubt she ever knew about it, but she took the brunt of it when it started bubbling up in college. Both Christie & Sandi visited me in hospital; Sandi once expressing her impotence: she said she felt helpless that I was in there and she couldn't help me. (I think a good deal of her impotence was based on the fact that I was a "Christian" and couldn't or wouldn't just let God lead me out of the shadow of death.) Virginia lived in Santa Barbara and gave me a key to her house and allowed me to come up and visit any time, unannounced. I did that for two years.
All three gave me succor and refuge and comfort for years, and never showed the slightest bit of resentment.* I don't know what I EVER gave back to any of these good women. I have never had the opportunity to tell them what they did for me. I have tried but they don't want to hear it.
* Not including Sandi's rejecting me when I came out to her, but that was well after I'd started to heal -- otherwise I couldn't have come out. It's odd, coming out to someone because you're healing and it's a step you need to take. It's something you do in tremendous new strength, and it's a knife in the back for that person -- who helped you to GAIN that strength -- to see it as weakness, as more evidence of mental illness.
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