A way in

Where to
start.

There's a fair amount written here. You don't have to read it all, or in order. You have to start with whatever is happening to you.

"My heart is racing, I can't breathe, and I'm sure I'm dying." When your body thinks you're dying → "It's three in the morning and my head won't stop." The mind at night → "I come out of conversations feeling guilty, empty or confused — and I can't explain why." The signs that don't look like signs → "They make me doubt my own memory. I need witnesses to my own life." When they make you doubt what you remember → "I know it's hurting me. And I still can't leave." Why you haven't left yet → "I said yes again, while my whole body was saying no." The no you haven't said in years → "The person who hurts me is my own mother." When the harm comes from home → "Someone I love is suffering, and I can't fix it." Being there, without being able to fix it → "Someone I love has died, and everyone expects me to be fine by now." The empty chair → "Sunday evening feels like a weight, just thinking about tomorrow." When work is draining you → "I want to do it. I've wanted to for weeks. And I can't start." The thing you can't get started → "I've spent weeks unable to decide, and the decision is eating me." Deciding with the fear inside → "I've been putting off a conversation that frightens me." The conversation you keep putting off — a series of 7 notes → "Everyone else's life looks better than mine." When everyone else's life looks better → "I got out. And now I don't know who I am without it." Who you are when there's no one left to fight → "This is bigger than me. I need real help and I don't know where to begin." Asking for help is also something you learn →

And if you'd rather it came to you.

One letter a month, on a Sunday morning. No urgency, no products. What I'm thinking out loud, told to someone who thinks about it too.

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