This morning I got a package in the mail. It was a birthday present. I don't think I've ever gotten a birthday present in November (my birthday is in September), but it's wonderful: so much more surprising and exciting. I got a gorgeous hank of baby camel/silk fiber dyed a sort of beige-brown-rusty red-pink kind of color (trust me, it looks better than it sounds) and it's soft and fluffy and shiny and I had admired it in the shop in August while I was buying knitting needles with my 12 year old cousin, and he remembered and thought "Angie would like that for her birthday," and here it is. And the fact that he noticed and remembered feels like the sweetest thing in the whole world.
This afternoon, I added another place to the list of Places I Have Cried in Public. I was knitting at Home Ec. Workshop, and talking about how I was avoiding doing the work I needed to do, and Alisa asked me what it was I was stressed about. And just the thought of listing out what I needed to do left me in tears, because I am having a difficult time accepting this whole growing up thing I have to do, and I respond to stress by crying in inappropriate situations. And she listened and talked me through it and offered to help me with some of the things I need to do.
And I am thinking about how many people have been listening, and talking me through it, and being there when my meds aren't working, and sending me virtual hugs when I'm feeling isolated, and inviting me to communal work sessions in the Art Box so that getting work done doesn't feel so isolating. It amazes me, the support I have, even from people I don't know, who read my twitter posts and ask if I'm okay. I think I am even more amazed, though, of the support I get from people who do know me, who get the unfiltered versions of my panic attacks, who get every new shred of evidence I am analyzing while I decide if I should call Satanist Dan on Tuesday or Wednesday because I spend a lot of time thinking about things like that, and they're still here, part of my life, and supporting me through it.
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