Back after a hiatus, and with a purpose

So, I haven’t posted in several months.  I’ve been dealing with severe depression to the point of suicidal thoughts.  I’ve also been drinking on a daily basis.  Obviously this is a seriously bad situation.

Bipolar depression is an absolute bitch.  I’ve worked with my psychiatrist over the last several months to find a medication which will help with both.  I’ve been prescribed a new medication a few months ago, that has thankfully dragged me out of daily suicidal thoughts.  It wasn’t until I had gone a few weeks without considering how I could kill myself without my family knowing it was intentional that I knew I was improving.

The more recent event, which is technically a multi-year culmination of addiction, is that I’ve decided to seek treatment for my alcohol addiction.

I have a lineage of significant alcoholics.  I have an addictive personality, and alcohol (beer) is my primary addiction.  Aunts and uncles on both sides of my family have very serious issues with alcohol addiction.  There may be other substances involved, but I can say for certain that alcohol use runs rampant.  I literally was taught by the age of 8 how to pour beer from a tap without too much foam because one uncle had a fridge in his basement with a keg inside and a tap on the outside.  Sometimes I think my catholic Irish heritage promoted having kids to go on beer runs.

My father’s father was killed as a result of injuries he sustained in a fight at a bar.  The official family story is he was beaten for defending a woman’s honor.  The more likely story was he was stepping out with her and someone took offense to that.

Another tale I was told was that the day Kennedy was assassinated my dad, who was 13 at the time, woke his father up to tell him the news.  This was a seriously Irish catholic family.  Supposedly, his dad punched my dad or threw him across the room or something like that, thinking he was being lied to.

My family is famous for tall tales.  I’ve got plenty.  But this isn’t about them.  This post is about my tale, tall or not.

Why am I disclosing all of this?  My significant other, when I told him I told everyone at work about what I’m working on, was “why would you tell them?  It’s none of their business”.  My response is “why wouldn’t I?”

I think this is like coming out of the closet.  I hope that analogy doesn’t offend anyone, because I don’t actually know.  I have a secret, and I’m telling people about it.  It’s awkward, it’s uncomfortable.

I am significantly fortunate to have the support of my family and friends and coworkers.  So many people dealing with health issues don’t have a support system.  I’m a lucky one.

So, where are things at?  I’ve had my intake phone conversation with an inpatient rehab facility in the area.  My info has been sent to the clinical department for evaluation, and I’m waiting to hear on their decision as to what the feel is appropriate for my situation.

Updates will follow when I have access.  My parting thoughts are if you are struggling with depression please have a conversation with your medical provider.  If you’re dealing with any addiction, seek help.

the retail life has got me down

I MUST start this post by stating clearly:

“clearing throat”

The posts on this site are my own and do not necessarily reflect the views of JoAnn Stores, LLC.

I literally wrote that down when I had to do an online in-service, because I knew it would come in to play at some point in time.

I will say I debated for a few weeks about stating what craft store I work at, because I know voicing my opinion about anything is going to create a backlash, and throwing the employer under the proverbial bus won’t likely win me any points.

My life so far: when it got to be the holiday buying season, I realized that I needed to increase my revenue if I was going to have any sort of life outside of living paycheck to paycheck.  I have too many bills to cover and not enough dollar wise smarts to do it with.  I thought about jobs I could do part time around my full time job, and since I spent regular time and money at JoAnn Fabrics, I applied there.  Minimum wage later, I started the day before Halloween 2014.

I will also freely say that without knowing it, I have been the customer which gets commented about after they leave the store.  I didn’t know any different, not having been told.  So, in a way, I see this as a sort of P.S.A. about the environment which does not prompt genuine customer appreciation.  Think what you will; I know I will think all sorts of things, good and bad, when this post is done.

The store closes at 9 p.m., but we are scheduled until 10 p.m.  Why is that, do you ask?  Being the customer checking out at 8:59 p.m. and thinking I get to go home the minute you leave?  The employees have to be there before and after closing to pick up the store-also known as recovery (put back purchased/returned/found items), set sales and put up/take down signage, reset the floor plan, and stock inventory which comes in.  Some days there is so much stuff out of place that after 90 minutes of multiple employees doing the bare minimum, the store still looks like someone set loose a fleet of toddlers without supervision.

You found a sale sign from a month ago, and can you still have the sale price?  In the interest of good customer service the answer is yes, but if you see the paragraph above, you may appreciate why things like that get overlooked.

The store I work for allows multiple coupons and accepts competitor coupons.  That doesn’t mean the store is open to give away inventory.  That wouldn’t make good business sense.  You will not get in line and get money back by simply making a purchase with coupons.  You can’t bring in a receipt for something you bought two months ago which now happens to be on sale, and expect to get a refund.  You won’t be handed coupons at the register.  The whole point of coupons are for advertising.  They are meant to bring you into the store, not to give you the deed.

Speaking of coupons, in the digital age, for the love of EVERYTHING which is good on this earth, have your coupons ready before you get to the register!  Often there’s only one cashier.  If it didn’t occur to you to look for a coupon or an app (I’ve had countless people ask me during a transaction if there’s an app for that) which may save you money, let someone else go ahead of you.  I’m not the Geek squad, and I can’t help you figure out your phone.  At best, I know how to use MY phone.  There was no course on how to teach someone how to download browsers or coupons or apps or search engines to their phone so I can type in a 32 digit long code because the scanner can’t read the coupon’s bar code on the customer’s phone.

I am not a seamstress, despite the fact that I can cut and sell you material.  It wouldn’t occur me to walk into Home Depot with a screen shot from Pinterest and expect someone to tell me how to make a grandfather clock, so please don’t come up to an employee and expect we will be able to tell you how to make whatever-it-is that you’ve found on the internet.  We sell the materials, not the product.  We can probably help interpret a pattern, but that’s not in the job description; it’s likely because the people working the store also craft.

If you don’t know what something is called, I can’t tell you if we carry it or if it’s orderable, unless perchance I have a co-worker who can figure out what you’re talking about and can give me specific information to research.  If you’ve bought it at at a JoAnn store before, save your receipt; it has an item number on it which I CAN look up to see if we have it in stock, will be getting more, or can special order it for you.  Again, vagueness is not our friend in this scenario.

The customer survey at the end of your undecipherable receipt?  Yes, we actually want you to go online and complete it.  If you name a particular person for doing their job over and above what’s expected, we do get recognized.  It’s with a scissor pin, but for those of us who don’t have a pin, we envy those who have one (or five) and we do strive to give you a great experience, even if you leave us scratching our collective heads.  If you don’t like something, there’s a good chance we don’t like it, either.  The tall signs which hide the registers?  We think they suck but we don’t have the power to take them down.  The price scanners which don’t work?  Yep, they piss us off but again, we don’t have the power to get them fixed.  The leaky roof which leads to garbage cans all over the store—ditto.  Same thing with the red paint footprint which has been on the floor since before I’ve worked at the store, because corporate won’t pay for it to be removed.

We know our paycheck is ultimately signed by the customer.  For those who don’t, they should.  That doesn’t mean we can meet unrealistic expectations.  At the end of the work day, we are much happier when a customer is appreciative of our efforts even if we weren’t able to help them than we would be for a begrudgingly satisfied customer.  Many of us work minimum wage to pay the minimum bills or (in my case) to cover expenses we can’t meet with our full time job (i.e. student loans).  We all love our job, but that doesn’t mean being human doesn’t frustrate us, as it often frustrates you as the customer.  I work with nurses, teachers, students, EMTs, moms and dads, parents working to pay for a child’s wedding, career people who have made this their life’s work. We want you to be happy, but you would help us by being realistic and meeting us somewhere in the middle.

2014: a brief recap

It’s been quite some time since I’ve actually posted.  I’ve typed several entries but haven’t put them out there for various reasons.  This is where I’m at.

I don’t regret holding Rich (my sig. other) hostage about his ‘edited for content’ episode over the summer.  I did what I needed to do, he ‘edited for content’ did the proper thing and he’s still here with me, we are still together after all these years.  He’s ‘edited for proper content, thank you federal government’ and I am VERY grateful for his existence.

My hair has grown back, status post St. Baldrick’s in March of 2014.  There have been a few grays, but I’m glad to have any hair regardless of the color so I don’t complain.  Out loud.  Where others can hear me.

I’m still reeling from unsuccessful fertility treatment in 2013.  It’s the worst failure I’ve ever felt in my life.

I’ve acquired a second job at Joann Fabrics.  My addiction has become a source of income.  And, New York State is raising the minimum wage to $8.75/hr next week (seriously?!?) so I get a raise.  It’s as much a social experiment as anything else.  There’s no way anyone can legitimately live off minimum wage.

I’ve gone through several medication adjustments for the bipolar diagnosis because of side effects and ineffectiveness of some of the medication.  I can heartily support very close contact with your medical provider and don’t give up.

I’ve had to stop knitting and crocheting because of bilateral wrist pain.  I’m very disheartened by this.  I’m having arthroscopic surgery on my left (dominant) wrist in February and likely scoping of my right when I’m recovered from the initial scope.  I’m disappointed this holiday season that I haven’t been able to craft as much as I wanted to because of my pain level.  I can either work or craft, and obviously work (very heavy typing) wins the day.

I have started sewing again, because of my 2nd job and my wrist issues.

Rich has a steady job on 2nd shift at UPS.  Some days we don’t see each other but I generally stay up until he gets home.  Have to keep the connections active.

My cat Pippin is having separation anxiety because Rich isn’t here as often.  I’m at a loss as to what to do.

I’ve admitted to myself that I live vicariously through some of my Facebook contacts and I’m okay with this, because I’m SO happy for their respective happiness!

Stone By Stone: Please check out this cause I am very passionate about.

I’ve left the church I was attending, and am currently adrift.  Working the 2nd job has contributed towards keeping me from searching for another church to go to.

I lost a very VERY dear kitty friend this year.  I was very fortunate to visit her on her last day, and am glad for the friendship and bond I had with her over the years.

I’m currently being nagged to go to bed because it’s after midnight and we are a wee bit short on staff at work, so I’m signing off.  More to come in 2015.

I want to talk about Brittany Maynard. Moreso, I want her discussion to lead to a discussion which goes viral.

Confessions of a Funeral Director: Let’s Talk About Brittany Maynard.

I haven’t posted in a few months, for mostly personal reasons.  Majority are health related, not applicable here.

I want to talk about Brittany Maynard.  Moreso, I want her discussion to lead to a discussion which goes viral.

My response to this article:

Death is a part of life. The Lion King is cliche but it’s a circle. We start with life, we become the earth, other organisms are sustained by this. Talking about death is not scary. What is terrifying is an individual and a family suddenly faced with a situation where decisions need to be made very quickly, sometimes before emotions can cool and reasonable discussion can take place. In the medical field, this unfortunate situation happens all the time, and I only work in family medicine, not the emergency room or other sudden trauma situation.

Have the discussion with your family. Think about what YOU want. And when you decide what YOU want, find those friends & family you KNOW will get your wishes done despite their own personal feelings, when/if/should you pass unexpectedly. Organ donoror no, or only some organs? Life support or no, or to what extent? Feeding tube or no, and to what extent? CPR or no?

I strongly encourage you to consult with both your family AND your medical provider, who can help ensure the proper/legal paperwork is in place to help make sure your wishes are carried out to the letter. I encourage anyone who doesn’t know what they want, want help having the discussion, have questions, etc. schedule an appointment with their provider specifically to discuss this topic.

Because whether or not we recognize it, just like taxes, we have NO choice but to deal with it. It’s either your predetermined wishes or those of family members consulted after death. There are NO wrong and NO right answers. The correct answer is the one which fits with YOUR wishes. This is one of the most important discussions EVERYONE regardless of age or health or sex should discuss with their medical provider, and if not their provider for whatever reason, their friends & family they want in place for when death happens, expected or sudden

Patients don’t always know that their wishes can be changed at ANY time, and for any reason. If yesterday you were ok with a ventilator and today you’re not, or vice versa, it can be changed in real time, and made legal. You don’t need a lawyer, and it doesn’t cost anything to complete a health care proxy and a living will in New York State. Your family medical provider (or hospital staff, if you are inpatient) are able to give you all the tools you need to create a legally binding document (which your lawyer should have, should you have one). I will not give opinions on any decisions, but I will GLADLY share my experience to help ANYONE become more aware of the discussion and the process.

As a medical professional,  I don’t care what your wishes are.  My concern is that they are known.  My larger concern is that your wishes are legally documented so there is no question should something happen.  Your feelings about your death are SO profound.  Nobody asked if you wanted to be born vaginal or via c-section, did they.

It’s time to greatly expand the conversation so it’s not so uncomfortable and awkward, and eliminate the stigma about the entire discussion.  Just because you’re thinking about how you want to be treated medically when you can’t speak for yourself does NOT mean you have a death wish.  It does NOT mean you expect to be stricken with a severe illness or a sudden fatal disease.  It does NOT mean you are worried about dying in a car accident.

What this ultimately does, is to get you thinking about how you want things to go, because you DO have options, regardless of the situation.  This talk, although it may be a bit awkward, opens a dialogue of communication.  And the sheer weight it removes from the shoulders of those who will be asked about your wishes when the time comes is absolutely worth the awkward discussion, be it three days or three years before the time they are being asked.

What a blessing it is to be able to make medical decisions for your loved one who can’t speak on their own behalf, yet still know what they would decide, if they were able.  Even if you disagree, you are still able to ensure their choice is being followed.  This allows you to continue to be a family member, and not the “one” who made all the decisions on “fill in the blank”s behalf.

As a medical professional, I cannot stress how important and vital and beneficial this discussion is to the health of any relationship, including people with children, kids just turning into adults and in charge of their health care decisions for the first time in their lives.  Hopefully this conversation will evolve over the years among the involved family/friend members, so it remains current.

My own personal experience, which I’ve been reluctant to share because I don’t want it to bias this post, is when my Gram was dying in 2011.  She had a living will and a trustworthy healthcare proxy.  Although as her family we may not have fully supported her decisions (I will not divulge details) we knew in advance what they were, and were able to ensure they were followed.  That was the greatest gift she gave us.  Well, that and her uncompromising stubbornness, but mostly her preemptive discussion about her death.

Why I refuse to take place in the ALS vs. ice water bucket challenge.

I imagine this post will likely not be received well.  First, let me say that any effort to raise money for a cause is worthy of recognition.  The term ’cause’ may at times be loosely employed, but I believe at the heart of the matter, people are good and labor under good intentions.

So, here’s my beef with this topic.

I spend a significant of time, money, and energy to raise money for various causes.  The details aren’t relevant.  What is relevant is my personal effort to try to affect good in this world.

I believe in free will.  I readily admit there are people who aren’t interested in supporting a cause.  I don’t see this as a character defect.  Folks have their own reasons for participating or not, and it’s not up to me to call out their reasons either way, and it’s definitely not up to me to assert judgement on whatever the circumstance may be.  I’d love it if everyone were ready, willing and able to support my cause of choice, but what I would love to be is selfish.

My place in this world is to educate people as to why I do what I do for the causes I support.  My place is to encourage, gently.  My place is to welcome with gratitude any likewise effort, and to accept any lack thereof.

I don’t feel nominating and therefore obligating anyone to my particular cause has a place in philanthropy.  By it’s definition, altruism is self directed.  It comes from within, not without.  It should not be forced.  I think it’s fantastic that amyotrophic lateral sclerosis is receiving enough attention to hopefully afford research towards a cure.  My father died of Multiple Sclerosis, a cousin of ALS.  Any advancement is glorious.  I am not comfortable with fundraising becoming the latest fad on Facebook or the Today Show.  Fads these days quickly become passe.  They are seldom sincere, although this is more likely because of the monster fads become because of their snowball effect.  Again, raising money is terrific, but if the spirit in which it is intended is lost in the act of fundraising, something else is lost along the way.

I encourage every person to search for a cause they can relate to, and to find a way to contribute.  It may be collecting bottles and cans for a local school trip to the Rose Bowl.  It may be bringing blankets to the local SPCA.  It may be hauling out the closet or attic for items suitable for the local rescue mission.  It may be working in a soup kitchen once a month.  It may be knitting caps for preemies or crocheting a blanket for Project Linus.  Simply speaking, if something speaks to your heart, you will find a way to make a difference.  It’s not up to me to tell you what that is.  I will encourage and support and may help facilitate if possible, but my heart already speaks to me.

Listen to your heart, and hear what it says.  And if it doesn’t say anything, be at peace with that as well.  People are inherently good by nature.  Last week I paid for the person behind me in the drive through at Dunkin Donuts.  That person may be a curmudgeon, but I am not and I felt so good that day, knowing I extended kindness to another.  That warm fuzzy feeling is the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.  And if yours is getting a bucket of ice water dumped over your head, I salute you.  I won’t participate, but I applaud your own participation.  I do ask that you ask people if they are ok with being nominated before they are called out on social media.

Friday brings a close to the work week.  I will rest myself this evening with a rousing game of Virtual Families.  I give of myself, and this makes me happy.  That is all I want.  It’s not the same as others, but it’s my happiness, which is all I need to be concerned with.

God bless, and if you have any comment, I welcome it.

an open letter to my utterly depressed significant other. AKA stuff we don’t say to each other.


I hate you.  No, I don’t hate you but I hate what you’ve become.  I hate myself.

You came back from active duty 23 months ago.  Since then, you’ve done practically nothing.  No job, no hobbies, no spending time with friends except for the very rare occasion.

Since I’ve known you, you have displayed a talent for avoidance.  Being an expert myself, I wish I would have kept my distance.  I can’t even deal with my own shit.

I called the MPs when I knew you were suicidal, but I didn’t do it out of anything other than love.  Even people in denial shouldn’t be given reign to kill themselves.

Your denial fucking pisses me off.  Despite multiple medical persons advising an antidepressant to help let steam off your pressure valve, you stubbornly refuse.  Which means you suck as a partner and I have no more patience for you.

Is this harsh?  Is this too much?  Am I heartless?

What I do know is if I refused to take my meds, which you know I take and you have an idea what happens if I don’t, you’d be royally pissed and wouldn’t talk to me.  So why do YOU get a pass?  You wanted to try it “your way”.  Because two years of trying it your way has done SO much for you.  Wake the fuck up and smell the coffee.  Which, by the way, the cup you brewed via the Keurig is still sitting on the table; apparently Skyrim is more important than everything else in your life, including coffee when you wake up at 1 p.m.

This is the part where I say that I don’t love you anymore.   The truth is I don’t love you enough to have to deal with your shit any longer.  My own shit is monumental and weighs several tons, without adding anything else to it.  Some may call me a bad person.  Some will likely call me a fucking bitch, and in all honesty I will welcome it, because that will be the time when I am not responsible for you anymore, bitch or otherwise.  You aren’t a bad person, but your approach to life is destructive.

I must also say that if you kill yourself, I will make it my job to tell everyone you know that you did.  Again, you don’t get a pass.  You have to be responsible for your own life and that has consequences, whether you want it or not.  If you fuck it up, your legacy will be weakness.  Your legacy will be denial.  Your legacy will be that despite multiple attempts to help you and support you, your ultimate refusal and complete lack of caring is what you feel is worth to give your family and friends.

By the way, the fact that you call me selfish for jostling you after your snoring has kept me up for 20 seconds is complete bullshit.  I have a very difficult time sleeping.  I am also the only person in this apartment who has a day job.  You can take a flying leap before I will apologize or feel sorry for doing whatever I can to preserve my sleep.

Do I sound angry?  You’re damn right I’m angry.  This argument should have happened years ago.

Let’s go back to me; I know it’s a foreign topic, but since I’m being a cold hearted bitch I want to remind you that I also exist, and I also have my own concerns.

I’m depressed.  I admit it.  I’m not feeling so bipolar these days, but the depression is deep seated.  All I want to do is eat and drink, and when I get home after working 10 hours and see you’ve done literally nothing since I’ve been gone, that makes me want to eat and drink even more.  I don’t blame you for my excesses, but I absolutely call you out for being a trigger for my crappy response to stress.

This week I took your shitty playstation game to work.  I don’t know why.  You still managed to avoid life just as skillfully as you would have if you were in the midst of a 14 hour marathon.  The game is simply an expression of the underlying pathology.

I’m not tired out from emotion as I would like to be, but mostly it’s because I’m so disgusted I don’t even want to be in the same room as you, let alone have a conversation.  Leave me to drinking in the spare bedroom with an audiobook and crocheting to do.  This is the highlight of my day.  I’m fat, I have no desire to do anything these days.  I’m getting to work an hour before I normally would.  Audiobooks are my favorite thing to listen to.  I hate myself, I hate my life.  I hate you.  I hate you for not being strong enough to admit you need more help than a short stint in the psych ward can give you.  I hate you for having no compassion for me and my circumstance.  I hate you for being weak when you could be SO strong.  I hate you for being depressed and refusing to do anything about it.  I hate you for snoring and disrupting my sleep, and for being a damn asshole about it.

On the other side of mental illness: a stranger dropped into a foreign land

So nearly every blog post I’ve written involves my existence as someone with a diagnosed mental illness, bipolar depression (with a wee bit of anxiety at times).  I’m so used to being the patient, I was completely blindsided by the sudden flip to the other side: a person who knows someone with a mental illness, who is in crisis.

I may as well be an English-only speaking urban white person parachuted into outer Mongolia.

A person I love quite dearly has had clinical depression for a few years now.  They decline to accept the diagnosis, and therefore decline any intervention, esp. pharmaceutical.  They did have a few sessions with a counselor about a year ago after calling me in the midst of a literal fit of despair; I was fortunate to have the means to get them to talk with a counselor that day.  They did continue with the counselor for a few months until that counselor retired and they never established with another.  They have been to see their primary care provider who did discuss the possibility of medication, but this has been declined.

This person has had many struggles and stresses in their life, definitely within the past two years there has been more than even I realized.  I’ve seen the clinical depression quite evident, and not simply because I’m a nurse.  They don’t have any hobbies or anything they really enjoy doing, or more accurately they don’t make time for these activities anymore.  They have a tendency to sleep for long hours and not have much oomph.  Without a job, the Army National Guard is their job and this is also another source of stress.

I got a call at 12:15 a.m. this morning; they were at a cross roads, and contemplating doing serious harm, doing irreparable damage to themselves and subsequently the lives of those around them.  And, to my utter dismay, their response was “I don’t care”.

I think my heart stopped for a few seconds.

So I’m trying to work through Seroquel sleep and help with this person who I love more than anything, who I know is reaching out for help.  The short is I didn’t get a solid “I won’t do anything stupid” from them, but I did reach them this morning by phone.  Three days on nine hours’ sleep, shit work with shit superiors, no guidance with the new job responsibilities, yeah I can definitely understand why this is overwhelming.

They’re away on training right now, so 1st I tried to call the armory their unit is based out of.  I got a voice mail and left a message.  After a few hours of nothing, I asked a co-worker whose husband is pretty high up in the air force for help.  She immediately called her husband who pointed me in the right direction and I made the call to the suicide prevention line of the particular facility they are at.

I’m glad to say that the military does seem to take mental health and well being of their soldiers seriously, and despite my utter lack of specifics, within an hour he was picked up by the MPs who brought him somewhere safe for evaluation.  We were on the phone at the time.  They asked “did you call someone?”  I answered “yes I did.  I don’t care if you’re mad at me”.  To my utter relief their response was “I’m not mad.  At least now I’ll have someone I can talk to”.

Don’t lose sight that although you may have your own health issues to deal with, there are others out there who need help dealing with their own issues.  The phrase “you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink” is thoroughly frustrating because it’s true.  As a friend, a co-worker, a loved one, someone who cares, your job is to voice your concern to the one involved.  Whether or not they choose to act on your concerns is up to them.  That being said, if it gets to the danger zone, you should do anything you can to go over, above, and around the person to make sure they get the help they need in a crisis.  They may hate you, they may never speak to you again, they may spit on your grave.

Don’t lose sight that you may have had these feelings about someone else who has rallied troops around you when they were concerned with your survival, even if you thought it was a complete bunch of bullshit.

Ultimately, if all involved are alive to argue about the specifics later, I think that’s a win.

I didn’t look deeply enough to see just how much the stress has been affecting this person.  They are not one to talk about their feelings.  I also admittedly haven’t been doing anything to help alleviate the stresses which involve me and us.  That doesn’t mean I’m responsible for someone feeling like they have no recourse other than to not wake up, but it does mean I need to look closely at myself and make sure that although I have my own issues to work through, I need to make DAMN sure those around me whom I can’t live without know that without me saying it.  Words aren’t the only way to let people know how important they are to you.  If someone you love is struggling, whether or not they don’t choose to admit it or seek treatment, take that as an opportunity to let your deeds and actions remind them that they are loved, that they are irreplaceable.  They may still choose to do something unchangeable, but then again, maybe they won’t.

I wish for all who read this they do a solid for someone they love, and they recognize when someone’s done a solid for them.  We are all unique.  We all have our own struggles.  We all struggle but ours is individual.  We are ALL irreplaceable.  Please remember that.  The void left if you leave is like a black hole on the heart of everyone who has ever loved you, a permanent stain for which there is no filler.  Even if you don’t love you, there is someone who does and more likely there is someone to which you are the world.

If you need it, use it.  Use it for yourself, use it for someone else.  Asking for help, whether for yourself or someone else, is such a sign of strength.  You are stronger than you know, I promise.