A few months back, feeling lonely and out of spirits, I phoned a close friend. I am sure you will all recognize the social dance steps we went through. I asked Mark how he was doing. Fine, thank you – he said. And you? Fine, thank you – I replied. We went on to discuss the unusually warm weather we were having in Southern California, touched briefly on the politics of the day, recommended books we had just finished reading. I knew my friend was struggling to hold the line on his hard fought battle against alcoholism. And Mark knew my history of depression. Neither of us mentioned these existential threats we each faced. The conversation ended shortly thereafter, oddly unsatisfactory.
The Elephant in the room
Mental health has always been a thorny (if not taboo) subject. Especially in Western societies, acknowledging vulnerability is dangerous. We try to project an aura of strength, invulnerability, eternal youth. How do we know whom to trust? Most friendships are based on transactional interactions – what have you done for me recently? Families are drifting apart as we avoid getting together in person. Cherished traditions of birthdays, anniversaries and sharing a meal together – these are luxuries we have not been able to afford for more than a year. One of my neighbors refuses to “see” her relatives on Zoom because she has not been able to get to the hair dresser and she thinks they may make snarky comments about her appearance and the “quarantine pounds” she has gained. As we forget to talk and truly communicate, we sink into deeper loneliness.
Then there is the eternal question of who goes first. Should I open up first, or wait for you to start the ball rolling? Should I trust you first? Will you take advantage of my vulnerability? Will you try to understand or pretend to be oblivious so as not to be responsible? These negotiations can be painful and more often than not, they eventually break down. We retreat to the safe “How Are You? I Am Fine” mantra. Better look for help from professionals, they know how to handle this stuff. They are strangers after all and if they are less than sympathetic and understanding, at least they are not family or friends and it won’t hurt as much. Right?
Unfortunately, strangers to hear the stories from our hearts are becoming hard to find. A recent news article reported that there is a mental health epidemic raging on in this country. More than a third of Americans acknowledged depression, anxiety and panic attacks. At the same time, there are reports of people who call suicide hot-lines who are put on hold for half an hour or more. Psychiatrists are booked solid. Often times, loneliness can be more dangerous than corona virus – or even CLL.
This epidemic is a very fast moving crisis, events unfolding at an ever faster clip. Even reports in prestigious journals like the “Lancet” are being rushed to publication ASAP, and then retracted when new information comes to light. The internet has made it possible for laypersons to access technically complicated information from pre-publication reports and well ahead of careful peer-review. Guidance from sacred institutions such as the CDC, FDA and WHO are often at odds with each other, all too often tainted by political pressure. We celebrate the record speed with which vaccines have been developed, but our sigh of relief at their unexpectedly high success rates is tempered with a nagging worry about rush to judgment. Politicians, pundits, – and yes, patient advocates too – all have their own take on how to interpret the deluge of information coming at us. Who are these people? Can you trust them? Do they know what they are talking about? Thank god for the likes of Dr. Fauci – a sane voice with obvious expertise and trustworthy motivations.
This is my second to last article (for now, anyway). The next article is going to be all about Vaccines, Variants and “Viral” therapies – “viral” referring to anecdotal reports with little credibility hyped on Twitter. After reading a mind boggling number of papers that often contradict each other, in my next and last article I will try to put things in a simpler format: my advice to you. There will be a long list of links at the end of the article that you can read. But to be honest, much of the next article is going to be my opinion. This crisis has outstripped merely technical advice. We face much deeper questions of what to think, what to believe, whom to trust, how to survive. Which brings us back to the big questions: should you trust me? Should I trust you? Who goes first?
If you have been a long term reader of CLL Topics, you are aware of my strong emphasis on the credibility of sources I cite. Is the author an acknowledged expert in his / her field? Is the article peer reviewed and published in a high pedigree journal? It is harder to judge credibility of non-professionals – such as patient advocates like myself. I am a scientist and researcher. But I am not a medical professional. In the “About Us” section and “Qualifications” sections I try to provide details of my professional background, so you can better judge the quality of my opinions. That and track record – follow the money is a good rule of thumb. We do not advertise, we do not solicit money, we are not selling any magical potions.
I normally do not struggle with writer’s block. But I have struggled with the format of my last article for more than a week. It finally dawned upon me, why I was having such a hard time. Up to now, I have had the protective shield of my reputation as a scientist, using carefully curated and diligently cited professional articles to back me up. To some degree, that is no longer sufficient. There is too much information, too much confusion, too much angst, too much real risk. When wearing a mask to prevent spread of infection becomes a political statement, we are well beyond technical guidance. My professional qualifications are important – but perhaps not sufficient for your judgment of the value of my advice in this unique situation. My personal qualifications are now in play. Who is this woman? Do you trust her? Should you?
I will go first.
A little over a year ago, I tripped over a rug in my house as I was playing with my dog “Buddy”. I fell hard on the tile floor and broke my knee into many little pieces. It was a very complicated fracture, requiring long surgery and total immobility for 12 weeks. I needed pretty much round the clock help from home nursing aides. I was in a lot of pain, demoralized and depressed by my total loss of autonomy. Pain, depression, loneliness, loss of autonomy – and a lot of prescriptions to potent painkillers. It was a lethal combination. My suicide attempt was no mere cry for help. I was not kidding. Life was not worth living and I wanted to end it, as simple as that. A fluke chance and I was discovered before I quite kicked the bucket. And here I am, a year or more later.
It was a very dark time for me. I found, the hard way, who my friends were and who were not. My next door neighbor, a staunch conservative Republican that I thought I had little in common with, came by to visit every single day. A couple I had known for more than two decades, my “best friends” that I had tried to help with CLL and other medical issues to the best of my ability, wrote to me and told me to “drop dead” (ahem. Sorry, that was hard to resist. Fall, drop, dead? You get it?). It seems depression is almost as contagious as the corona virus. The socially acceptable answer to the question “How are you?” is almost cast in concrete: I am fine, thank you. And if you are not fine, we would thank you to keep that to yourself.
Loss of autonomy after my accident was very difficult for me, having to depend on the kindness of strangers to do the simplest of things. But even harder was dealing with the cruelty of a few friends. My suicide attempt made me a pariah to some people. There is a definite stigma attached to mental health issues of any sorts in our culture. Heck, I even lost a couple of bridge partners! If my bridge partners cannot be sure of my ability to play a kick-ass game of bridge, should you guys trust my take on much more important things? Suddenly, in addition to my educational and professional qualifications, my personal stability and balanced judgment are of relevance. Rightly so. And I decided to go first, trust you with my personal story of despair and hurt and recovery.
As my knee healed, as I could do more things for myself, as I finally got done with mandated psychiatric help that could not see past cultural stereotypes, as I made new friends and – this is important – beat the pants off of my erstwhile bridge partners (revenge is so sweet!), my life improved. I was going to go on a vacation, book tickets on a cruise. Then we all got hit with COVID-19 pandemic.
Once again, I faced existential questions. But this time, I had plenty of company. I do not know of anyone that is not worried about the state of the world right now. It has been more than a year since I last saw my daughter. It will be a little while longer, until she gets her vaccinations and it is safe for her to travel cross country from Maryland to California. My dog is getting older, I worry about losing him. I am 72 years old and not getting any younger. Sounds familiar to you? With lots of time on my hands and new questions driving my interests, I began reading – delving into psychology, philosophy, even religious thought. It is amazing how many times mankind has discovered the same truths, over and over again.
God, grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time,
enjoying one moment at a time;
accepting hardship as a pathway to peace.
So. This is who I am, this is where I am. I accept my age, I accept my eventual mortality. I even accept the loneliness that is almost baked into the cake of old age as we lose spouses / partners and families drift away. These are things I cannot change. But there are still things that I can change. I can learn to be kinder, more patient, more open to understanding a different perspective. I can help when I am able. I can enjoy playing with my dog today, not worry about next year or the year after that. I can accept responsibility for my own actions, but not take the failings of the entire human race on my shoulders. I can come out of retirement and reconnect with my readers. I can tell the truth, to the best of my ability. I can ask you to trust me, but not be hurt if you choose not to – that is entirely your decision. I can answer the reader who complained that I scared the living bejeezus out of him with my articles: this is reality as I see it. Take it or leave it – your choice. I will not cut and run from problems, nor will I deep-six them from unfair sense of guilt or shame. I will try not to forget the lessons I learned over the past year. I will be more prudent in who I choose to call friends.
A sense of community, a sense of belonging – these are part and parcel of being human. Writing about CLL after my husband was diagnosed with CLL and for several years after he passed away helped me cope with the grief of his death. Getting back to writing about COVID-19 and sharing with you what I have learned about it to the best of my ability – this is my way of saying thank you.
Onward and upward. Vaccines, Variants and “Viral” therapies – coming right up.
Be well,
Chaya
30 comments on "Mental Health"
Thank you. Such truth.
Dear Chaya, I’m so sorry to hear you’ve been through such a difficult time. There are people trying to tell us older age is the best time and we can still do anything. If only!
I can relate to your knee problem having had some fractured vertebrae over the past couple of years, which suddenly left me feeling 20 years older and unable to do half the things I’d like to do. Some periods it has been hard physically to get out of bed. And once (if) my back is strong enough again, I really need a hysterectomy too. And CLL lingers in the background of course. It’s easy to slide down into depression at such times. And heavy duty painkillers make you feel even worse I think.
There’s no easy answer. Life is really hard at times, and especially for older people without partners and through COVID. If there’s anything I’d recommend, it is to remind yourself of the good you can still do. Your unique brain, training and CLL knowledge has been such a HUGE help to the CLL community. You are still contributing more than many people half your age and we are very grateful.
It’s Australia Day here in Australia today, and yesterday evening Senior Australian of the Year was awarded to a beautiful Indigenous woman who had to be helped to the stage because she could barely walk. I was very touched by her and the Indigenous ‘Dadirri’ (deep listening) she talks about. I thought ‘Yes, even if I have to be helped to the stage, I can still do some good’. Of course tomorrow I may be feeling sorry for myself but we’re not over yet! If you’re interested in hearing more about this women there is a video at: https://www.facebook.com/ABCIndigenous/videos/228112535599684.
Thank you for trusting us with your story and may you feel purpose in knowing you touch and help many people. I guess you can see my email behind the scenes here and you are welcome to email me anytime if you run out of known people to call on. I may even be awake here in Australia while your world is sleeping.
Dear Chaya: in 1995 I had a car accident that crushed my foot/ankle. After long surgeries, weeks in hospital, I came home in a wheelchair. No one in the house but me. It took 5 months to bear weight on the foot. I undertand your pain, frustration, anger….and depression.
I thank you for raising the issue of the the elephant in the room, because after one year of isolation, I don’t know many people who I consider “well”. Everyone I know is dealing with emotional issues, with pain and suffering around them. Each deals differently, but very very few discuss it in the open. Most don’t know where to turn for help.
Not to mention us CLLers, afraid to bezzezus to take physical risks, and to some degree, (like me) only willing to share our fears and vulnerabilities with 1 or 2 close friends. It might be a fear of rejection, as you mention in your experience. Or to be looked upon with pity (not compassion.) I’ll have to rethink it carefully. Because I think personal interaction is key to staying sane.
Thank you for this eye opener.
Thank you for sticking to it.
Thank you for “being first”.
Thank you Chaya. You rock !
Today, my husband received his first shot of the Moderna vaccine. He is very relieved that the VA opened appointments at the last minute. My comment is that we had read your articles, well researched and informative, about COVID and CLL patients . It was very clear and we were taking your advice to alert our doctors about the reactions CLL patients could have and to put an aggressive plan in place. The most disappointing thing is that we sent the articles to three doctors, two primary care and one oncologist. The responses were “no response “ or “I can’t deal with this, contact your oncologist “. It is so frustrating dealing with establishment doctors. Thank you for alerting us to the paths forward. We have to be our own manager of our health and your articles give us the tools to be successful. Be Safe and know you are doing great work. We need you!
Chaya, you write like no one else. I hung on every word. Thank you.
Dear Chaya,
How many times have I invoked your power just to survive? It is innumerable.
I’ve murmured many a silent “thank you, Chaya” for developing my confidence to be my own patient advocate.
The countless seminars you selflessly offered – many in your home! – with the generous assistance of Radha and Peter – to help CLL patients navigate the system, understand their disease , be aware of their options and be their own saviors, was the bedrock of my long term survival.
Because of you, I am comfortable asking to be included in the benefits and considerations of any medical facility. I am not intimidated by rank or serial number in the hierarchy or obstacles I may encounter.
I have been treated well and have enjoyed the best facilities and *compassionate use*. The first needed treatment was initiated by a speed dial phone call by you to your friends in high places at NIH. Within a week, I was in a trial.
When we met, my CLL profile warranty was 5 years. After my graduate course at Chaya’s University, I truly understood the secrets of longevity:
get educated,
get defiant ,
be persistent,
bake brownies,
make friends,
work endlessly to achieve your goals and
never, never give up.
Chaya, it was such a heartwarming gift to, once again, see your wisdom extended to your students in the recent COVID papers.
I am sad we did not know the pain you were enduring.
I am sad to think you were not able to draw strength on the knowledge of the powerful difference you have made in all of our lives.
I am sad to know your world of tears was very secret.
Over the silent time, your ears must have been ringing. It was not tinnitus. It was your grateful students, acting out and making good trouble.
You are so cherished.
Thank you for this brief appearance.
We will always remain thirsty for your presence.
Love,
Diana
Chaya,
You helped me and so many others when I was first diagnosed with CLL. Your website was informative and written in a that a laymen could understand. I am glad you are taking it one day at a time and doing better.
Warm regards,
Paul
Well-stated; well written.
We all have our broken knees.
Good of you to come forward, to go first – as at the dead-red sea.
My advice, unsolicited, to you: keep writing – if only in your mind, for yourself, and on paper, if only once-in-a-while for us.
I wish I lived next door to you, Chaya. You have helped me many times since my diagnosis for follicular lymphoma in 2009, and it would be nice to repay you in some small measure. You are loved.
Thanks Chaya for ‘going first’. You are our brave CLL hero and so it’s such a shock to find that you are not only a pillar of strength but are a human being full of doubts and frailty like the rest of us.
When I was dx with CLL at age 50 I was plunged into a tail spin of despair. We cannot live without hope and to be told you have an incurable terminal disease made the future seem pointless. Some friends evaporated or were full of pity, leaving only the really ‘best’ friends behind.
Then I found your web site and I found hope. You spoke of methods of staying healthy, you flagged up new drugs ahead and opened up a global CLL family who understood this cancer. Armed with your razor sharp translations of the alienating medical jargon, we could go in to face our consultants and politely ask for informed up to the minute treatments.
CLL Topics turned the CLL dx from a hopeless future into a turbo charged life without a minute to spare.
Thank you again Chaya, you deserve to be happy.
Dear Chaya,
Thank you for sharing your innermost feelings and the many difficulties you’ve had these past few years. We had no idea what you were going thru but I often wondered how you were doing after your dear husband, PC, passed away. You fought bravely and selflessly for him with everything in you but his life slipped away nonetheless.
I hope you don’t mind if I share something with you or rather someone who has made all the difference in my life. And that person is my friend and Saviour, Jesus Christ, who came to this world to seek and to save us all. He has been there all along for any of us who will reach out to Him by faith and accept His free gift of salvation. It can’t be earned or worked for. “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever (Chaya) believeth in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.” John 3:16. Jesus paid the price for our redemption. “For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: not of works, lest any man should boast.” Ephesians 2:8-9.
I believe God spared your life, Chaya…it’s only by God’s mercy and grace that you are still here.
As a young girl, I asked Christ to come into my life and heart and forgive me of my sins. He gives me such peace and contentment. Even when this old world tries to take it away.
You’ve been a beacon of light and comfort to so many that were bewildered and frightened in the beginning of their CLL diagnosis. I still refer back to your CLL Topics when I need help to understand something.
I hope you will ponder what I have shared with you from God’s word.
Take care,
A friend you’ve never met, Paula
Julia: Yes, I too have heard of “Dadirri”. I will learn more about it. How I wish I could travel to Australia and meet your Senior Australian! Several years ago I traveled to Dharamsala (India) to meet His Holiness the Dalai Lama. I wrote about it http://www.clltopics.org/updates_subdomain/4027-dreaming-of-dharamsala.html at that time. Elders like these are so precious! We need to recognize and chronicle their wisdom before they pass away!
Diana: How I have missed your brownies!
doctorK: Your advice is sound and I will think about it. I enjoy writing and as long as there are readers willing to spend their precious time reading my long winded articles, it might be just what I need.
One issue I have to sort out is WHAT to write about. I got burned out when I was totally focused on only CLL for many years. To some extent it was feeding my PTSD of my husband’s death from this dreadful disease. What say you guys? Will you still read me if I branch out a bit?
I just remembered this is not the first time I wrote about depression and elephants in the room. There was an earlier article that discussed the topic of depression in CLL patients and their care givers. You can read it here:
https://updates.clltopics.net/3654-depression-in-cancer-patients-and-their-caregivers
“Our worlds have changed right from under our feet. It is not just in Western world of USA and affluent countries in Europe and elsewhere. When I go back to India to visit my Mom, I hardly recognize the country I grew up in for the first 21 years of my life. Extended families with many generations living under the same roof are now the rare exceptions, not the rule. Back then, if something was worrying me, I could sidle up to an aunt, grandmother, or some other adult who happened to be free and I could look for a nice cuddle, a little gentle scolding for worrying too much, emotional comfort to take away the angst and fear. Today, people are busy from dawn to late night, the rat race encompasses adults and children as well. Who has the time to deal with anything other than hurriedly putting out the latest fire? You don’t get double digit GDP growth every year by sitting around and contemplating your navel or examining the meaning of life! The good news I suppose is that we have options today that were not available then. We can turn on the computer or smart phone and send an email or “tweet” – hoping that someone out there will notice.”
Dear Chaya,
I missed you so much and am glad you are writing to us again. I don’t play bridge but will root for you all the time.
Here’s hoping you get the perfect bridge hand at least once in your life (and bid it right!)
Thanks for all of your articles now and from the past. I’ve found them to be the best starting point for learning about CLL.
-H. Lepoff (still kicking after 18 years since diagnosis)
Thank you Chaya. It’s great to have you back and that you’re doing better now. Your articles were a such huge help when my husband was first diagnosed with CLL. In the New Zealand health system “experts” are pretty thin on the ground so sorting through the mass of information was made very much easier by your reviews. I hope that in this very troubled world you can enjoy your newfound peace of mind for a long time.
Chaya Thank you for this wonderful article. Depression is never easy to conquer. I remember when diagnosed with CLL, and working a job that required a lot of travel, I was constantly sick. Upon being forced to retire due to CLL, I felt as though I was in a ditch 8 feet deep with no chance of getting out. Luckily, with the right help and an anti depressant, I recovered. Everyone of us has probably gone through situations similar to this, but I believe that one of the keys to this is whether we are accepting enough to get help. Please keep writing. We love you
Dear Chaya,
I was so happy to hear from you again. Your former articles meant a great deal to me and I eagerly read them and thought about what you said. I was sad when you lost your husband and wondered how you were managing in the meantime.
I have had CLL for 30 years and am in my 9th treatment. At 88 I am also dealing with many issues relative to aging and the isolation required by COVID 19. Your article on Mental Health was very important to think about.
Again I was saddened to learn of your personal challenges.You have done so much for so many others. My only recourse is to say how welcome it is to hear from you again and have the benefit of your caring and wisdom.Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I am sending positive energy for peace and calm to you and yours.
Shame hates to have words wrapped around it. If we talk about it, it loses its grip on us. – Brene Brown, professor
Thank you Chaya,
You were my first read when I was diagnosed with CLL 20 years ago. I learned a great deal from you, both facts and wisdom in living. Please know your words are very helpful and there are many who will read you again faithfully. The sharing is so important in this time in our world.
For me the personal experiences you describe are a breath of fresh air, as we have become masked, figuratively, in regard to letting ourselves be known and now, literally, in regard to letting ourselves be known.
Hoping you are feeling better today and will continue to feel free to express yourself with that which is of importance to each of us whether we recognize it or not. Namaste’
To laugh often and much;
to win the respect of intelligent people;
to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends;
to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others;
to leave the world a little better;
to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived.
And in this Chaya, you have definitely succeeded!
The above was heavily edited from Ralph Waldo Emerson
And Chaya, I definitely look forward to your future posts, no matter what the topic!
Chaya, thanks for letting us know about your struggles. Yes, you came out
first! I hope you continue to research and publish your information. It
really does help us as CLL patients. As far as mental health, I can tell you
I had a major panic attack in my 5th month of my 6 months of chemo. It took
me back to my college days when I struggled with an identity crisis, and
also back to my retirement from 22 years in the Navy which was also an
identity crisis. I worked hard on my own at conquering those challenges
without professional help. However this time during my chemo, I needed help
and thankfully got it. A year and a half later I am on a medication that has
really helped me and I feel great again. However, I did not lose my spouse
like you did. That is really tough on anyone to say the least. My spouse has
been with me for 48 years and has been my rock. I consider myself very
lucky, but I worry about her surviving me and being lost like you were. I am
72 and have major health issues added to my CLL. I have had bypass surgery,
back surgery, and now recurring back pain. I was scheduled for a knee
replacement a year and a half ago and just one week prior to the surgery my
lymphocyte count suddenly doubled to 85k and they refused to operate, and my
oncologist scheduled me for chemo. Thank goodness the chemo worked for now,
but as we all know CLL is “Chronic” so hopefully there will be a good follow
on treatment available at the time of any reoccurrence. Finally I have had
my first dose of Moderna and I am scheduled for my second dose in a few
weeks. I realize it may not do much for me, but my wife is healthy so I
think it will help her develop a good immunity. Sorry for the rambling, but
I thought you might like to hear from another one of us who also has lots of
issues! Stay safe. You are making difference in people’s lives!
I am so very thankful that your suicide attempt failed because you are important to me. You helped me years ago when I felt abandoned in my journey to get on the Ibruitnib clinical trial at NIH. You saved me when I was giving up hope. Your kinds words helped me shoulder on through a big delay in the clinical trial. In fact it was your CLL Update about the Natural History trial that got me into the NIH in the first place. Your articles helped me to choose Ibruitnib for my treatment and your kindness helped me when I was at a very low point in my life. I only wish I could have returned that favor when you needed it. But angels came to hover close by and gave you support and I am thankful for that. Your reminder to talk the truth with people we love and care about is timely and important. And your dog looks kind and loving. May you be well and at peace and rejoin your family when the pandemic is calmed . I am anxiously awaiting my reunion with my grandchildren in Colorado (and of course their parents). I hope I have learned to treasure the little gifts of life because they have become so important in sustaining me.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart, for all the kind and compassionate responses. Both here in the comments section and as personal emails.
But….
While I went first, it was mostly to open the door for YOU. This is a safe community. Who would bother to troll a cancer self-help group? A “good” cancer at that? Even with no registration requirement and all visitors welcome, we have had absolutely no nasty posts. Please feel free to share your experiences. Grief shared is grief reduced. Your voice counts, it adds color and depth to the tapestry of our shared experiences.
Chaya and all of you who have also shown such a beautiful generosity of spirit through your printed words of loss, and hope, and renewal…
You have all helped me at this most vulnerable time. You are held in my heart and with my deepest gratitude. Namaste.
May your heart as well as your mind know the gift you are to the world, how much your knowledge and support has help so many with CLL/SLL, as well as those of us that also suffer from depression. Forever grateful for your honesty and I hope you will continue to share what you learn with us when you can. Thank you again!
Chaya, I’ll go next.
Like you, I experienced depression after a so-called friend gave me a verbal dressing down – really malicious stuff – at a time when I was already stressed and between jobs. I felt diminished and found myself crying frequently; I’m usually pretty tough.
I talked to my doctor about it, and nearly accepted his offer of a pharmaceutical remedy. Thankfully the depression lifted, but I was struck at how any of us may be affected at any time.
Now, since the depression is a part of my permanent chart, all my doctors inquire about my mental well-being when I see them. I can live with that.
I know I’m better off talking about this than hiding behind it, but it takes time and the right level of trust to put it out there. I don’t want to be labeled or reduced to some category, as in, “There’s Judy. I wonder how her depression (or her CLL) is doing.”
I am me, first and foremost, lumps and all, and that’s the best I can do! I’m glad to be alive.
Thank you, Chaya, for reaching out to all of us in the CLL community. Namaste.
Oh Chaya. I’m just catching up on your posts. I hope you can take a moment and bask in the warm feelings of those of us you helped, befriended, mentored .. whatever one calls it “along the way”. What a nightmare for you of repair and hopefully healing. And so glad you escaped from rehab and didn’t get stuck on one of those slow motion horror show cruise ships at the start of COVID.
wow
you are really engaged in a meaningful,helpful way
thank you for sharing this with me.it is comforting to know that my failed finesses do not faze you so onward and upward
you have become a wonderful contributor and not a woe is me user.i hope all of us are able to take that step
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