Getting Found

I got lost. Now I'm getting found. With a little luck, politics, soapboxing, cheer and righteous anger forthcoming...

for now I'm trying to detoxify and heal. And find myself. I'm pretty sure it's possible--today is a hopeful day. Getting a large quantity of salt dumped in a potentially fatal wound pissed me off enough that I realized I want to survive. It's not just instinct--it's desire.

I have some friends that are helping in ways they don't even realize. I'm very lucky to have good peeps. And I have a newish friend that is going an extra mile to listen to me and have a tea party with my skeletons. To that person, it's a small gesture. To me, it's a relief that feels like a first breath after being strangled.

It's going to be allright. I'm pretty sure.