Dinner with Friends Part 4: Clowning with Casey

The week started out on a light note. Dare I say, my newest foray into the performative arts opened up a brand new avenue of myself I am anxious to discover - or rather rediscover. I took a clowning class; as in big, red nose, oversized pants and prop comedy - the whole shabang. I schlepped on up to Evanston and every Monday for thirteen weeks I will be learning via doing all things goofy yet secretly terrifying.

Okay perhaps not. What the class actually appears to be is an excuse to let out your inner child which is objectively something I need to do. Being a clown means being creative, empathetic and vulnerable, all things I think I can express well, but have yet to exhibit them in an out-sized, exaggerated way. I signed up for the class largely because I want to offer something slightly different than my counterparts in relation to standup. As much as I love the pursuit, standup can come across as mean-spirited to the audience - especially if a comedian is still working on things.

On the way home, I caught the train with two others from the class and naturally stuck up a conversation. Both had taken acting classes of some kind before; it seems I'm the only standup in the group (or so I think).

The rest of the week progressed more or less how it was supposed to. Work is dead at the moment which would make it an ideal time to workshop jokes but alas I am just getting back to fighting strength on that end. This past Thursday I stopped by one of my usual haunts but before then I biked on over to the Laugh Factory to watch two friends go up. It was $20 but well worth it if it meant seeing good comedy. Shirley was, of course schmoozing after the show. I was uncomfortable and unable to capitalize on the opportunity which is a loss. Instead of staying there and internalizing the feelings of inadequacy, I instead left right away and went to the mic I meant to go to.

I went first (as I arrived super early). I waited for a couple of sets before ducking out and taking the train home with my bike in tow. The set I did was touch and go but overall I'm proud considering I've been out of the scene for a minute.

I had a night to cook for my friend and co-host Guy Casey (pseudonym so given because my other co-host has the same first name and different gender identity). Casey is one of those rare people who exemplifies funny in nearly every way. His writing, his appearance but especially his delivery is spectacular. He has the cadence of a disinterested Valley girl but lumbers around like a live-action Eeyore.

For dinner I made pineapple rice with tofu. Unfortunately I over did it on the spices especially black pepper and hot pepper resulting in a very flavorful but spicy and grainy experience. Casey was kind enough to eat what he could and didn't complain but I was disappointed.

During dinner we watched Chris Gethard's Career Suicide which was a thoroughly entertaining personal one-man-show. Casey and I have been facing similar difficulties though Casey has the wisdom of years living with depression. He thought the HBO special might be of help and he was right. The thematic juxtaposition between Gethard's old therapist and new therapist was something that struck a chord with me personally. My current therapist was kind enough to check up on me when I was in Indiana and made an effort to contact me a year ago when I lost my healthcare. The Gethard special helped me realize how much of a kind person she is regardless of her quirks.

As of this writing the Chicago Marathon is thirteen days away. The half marathon was yesterday and I caught a little bit of it while I was at a mic. The realization that it's coming is sending chills down my spine. I'll do my best though at this point I doubt I'll be able to finish. If this entire ordeal has taught me anything its that I'm going to have to find something else that's physical to occupy my time because running suuuuucks!

Dinner with Friends Part 3: Flower and Reese

My job had me gallivanting back through Indiana; ironic since I was there only two weeks ago for vacation. Had I been smart about it, I could have gone somewhere else for vacation then spent a few days off in Indiana but then that just would have meant less money in my pocket. Plus it was Indianapolis which...meh.

Flower, my friend in Bloomington, came on up to see me again only this time I had to take about an hour of the day to do work stuff before a full day the next morning. A little bit about Flower: I first met her via OkCupid. We went on one date, which I thought went well but she dropped the, "let's just be friends line." Always looking to make new connections I agreed and to my great surprise and joy she didn't use that line as a ploy to back away slowly and never see me again. She genuinely found me interesting and I likewise wanted to get to know her. Why? Well...

She's the Free-gan I talked about months ago i.e. my first joke that landed 90% of the time. I'm still indebted to her for that and I never cease to remind her to her chagrin. She's great to tease because she acts outlandishly and sometimes playfully like Maisie used to do when we were both younger and less mature. After making some crack about Flower's dog, she tried to throw me off the bed in the hotel I was staying at. She hung out for a bit watching the Comedy Central Roast of Alec Baldwin which she actually quite enjoyed.

Before then however I took her to a buffet on my company's dime (don't tell anyone). Ideally I would have liked to have cooked for her but I only had a day in Indy and her dietary restrictions rely heavily on garbage food. So we went to Golden Corral!

My relationship with Golden Corral is no doubt a common experience for all the secret eighty-year olds hiding in the body of thirty-somethings that live across the country. If I'm not in the mood to cook or in the mood to choke up my arteries via KFC gravy, I'm craving Golden Corral. No because the food is of good quality; nine times out of ten its just below the line of average. No, you go to Golden Corral to experiment with different flavors and get a taste of what, for example, a plate of collared greens taste like next to serving of spaghetti with tomato sauce. There are billions of different combinations you can try, and if you find something you like, you can always make a better version of it at home.

Flower had a mean helping of carbs: mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing, corn on the cob, Spanish rice, pizza, a dinner roll and, to mix it up some fish. I had a plate of spaghetti, a dinner roll, spiced ham and a vegetable medley. For my second serving I went for the friend chicken rice with carrots and green beans. For dessert I had a slice of blueberry pie topped with a serving of banana pudding.

We spoke briefly about what she's been doing for the past week and a half while I was gone - still works at a library, still happy with the connections she's been making in Bloomington. Every time I see her, I try to convince her to come back to Chicago but she seems to hate it just as strongly as I love it. Guess she was right to not want to continue anything romantic.

Flower remains an enigma in many cases. In-between visits she called me saying something went wrong between her and her boyfriend which might constitute assault. I immediately wanted to go down to Bloomington and kick the guys ass but at the same time I wasn't sure what the might was all about. I pushed the subject both over the phone and in person but she deflected. Was this a close-fisted jab to the face in anger? An accidental elbow to the face in the throws of passion? I'm assuming it's closer to the latter. She doesn't seem to be the type of person who'd protect and abuser but you can never be too sure. I will respect her desire to keep me out of it but I'm keeping tabs for sure. If she ever introduces me to the guy I will not be conciliatory, at least not until I get further context.

When I got back from Indy, I nearly forgot I had invited my friend Reese for dinner. Luckily I had plenty of leftovers from Shirley's dinner and I was actually kind of curious to see if Shirley was just being nice. So when I got off the bus at the Station, I ran home and heated up the dirty rice, sausage, roue and beans. I'm not too proud of it as I kinda wanted to make dinner, dinner but it's not like I didn't tell Reese they were in for leftovers.

A few months ago, Reese told me they'd been experiencing gender dysphoria and are going through the process of gender transitioning. As of today, they go by they/them pronouns and have gotten to the point of taking estrogen with the long-term goal of transitioning. I am so proud of them for taking that crucial first step. While I sometimes feel uncomfortable in my own skin, I would absolutely lose my goddamn mind if I woke up one morning as a gender I didn't comport with. An entire life like that? Forgetaboutit. What's more Reese has a very strong support network which consists of their gender non-conforming partner, plenty of friends (myself included) and a family that seems universally on board for now.

Reese's process has me thinking a lot about gender and what it truly is and means. From what I read there's like, three axis's on the exhausting 3D model that is gender and sexuality which have to do with your biological bits, how you identify and who you're attracted to. That combined with how you socialize and how you express your sexuality is all part of what makes you, you.

I'll need to read more about all of it so please don't take what I'm saying here as anything other than conjecture. I'm constantly inspired by Reese. I see them as a model of person I hope to become; confident in themselves and what they want, unencumbered by needless expectations and bolstered by an inner life that keeps them happy, joyful and wise.

We sat and watched Broadcast News and afterward had a lengthy conversation about the characters and their choices. I missed doing that with fellow moviegoers and critics. To be able to talk at length about a great story and what it means to you or society at large is just an amazing thing to have. It's also nice to share something like a favorite movie with a friend and have them be receptive to it. Reese loved the movie and identified strongly with Jane played by Holly Hunter. I've always appreciated Albert Brook's performance though conceded that within a modern context he's not exactly a good guy.

I'm on day three of antidepressants which means nothing as it takes about a month for them to have any effect. So far though, hanging with friends and cooking for them (or at least preparing meals) has definitely been a big help. For a few hours a week, I get to look outside of myself and try to focus and be present. I'm still working on being a better listener but I suppose just like any other skill, it comes with practice and patience.

Dinner with Friends Part 2: Shirley You Jest

I'm glad to say this past week brought me and the light at the end of the tunnel closer to each other than ever before. I attended a meeting with a psychiatrist for the first time ever and I have officially joined the throngs of Americans who now rely on antidepressants to get them through the day. Is there reason to believe that stunning reality is in-part the result of a corrupt and cruel political and economic system that places undue burden on the majority of the populace to secure basic needs? Naw, it's more likely its the midichlorians in our systems or whatever-the-hell Scientologists believe.

Skepticism aside, I'm genuinely feeling positive about the future. I wouldn't go so far as to say I've been reentering my work and hobbies with a renewed sense of relish, but with a little more help, I'm sure I'll be revolving in the right direction by the New Year.

Which is just as well; when I thanked my friend Shirley for simply being there for me she told me, "Once you're up, I'm sure you'll have the strength to help a friend who's down." I do want that very much...well preferably I would like everyone I know to be happy but as that is not possible, I would like to be as supportive as I can.

Shirley, my closest comedian confidant, was the next friend I invited to dinner because I knew she'd be a challenge. Her and girl Casey are my biggest gets given the later is a vegan and the former is the pickiest eater I've ever met. So it was a huge surprise Shirley said yes immediately and without much followup. When she arrived she wondered allowed why people hadn't arrived and I had to explain to her it was just her. This in turn started the evening with an awkward air, resembling a comedy of errors. After I explained what my intentions were (a thank you, a form of fun and a form of therapy) she laughed off the situation.

Depiction of how I must have looked at that moment...

Since Shirley is a Louisiana transplant and picky beyond comprehension, I went through great pains to make sure the food was both to her liking and customizable. Dirty Cajun rice in a dark roue without baked beans, and sausage (on the side). Veggies were present but infused into the meal as to be nearly invisible. I also made pork cracklings braised in red wine assuming they'd be just for me but she took one to be a good sport. "I often starve myself before attending dinner at someones place so I'm too hungry to care what they're feeding me."

She charged through the meal like the best of them. I'm not sure if it was genuine or her southern manners but she commented it was the first time she's eaten everything on her plate in a long time. It was true, her plate was completely clean by the end of the meal. My reaction would have been described as bashful if it wasn't accompanied by hands raised to the sky as if I'd scored a goddamn touchdown.

After dinner and decent conversation, we watched part of A Fish Called Wanda before it was time to go to the mic - she almost pasted out on my bed again. I could tell she came over less out of desire and more out of loyalty, though I do truly enjoy her company no matter what condition she's in. I often worry about her and her mental state. She has amazing talent and an uncommon drive but a level of impatience that gets to be too self-critical. She's reached a threshold at this moment comedy-wise and often acts like a fly buzzing about a hot window just looking for a way to continue to the next level. "Patience is a virtue I do not possess," she has said to me more than once. "Well get some," I sometimes respond. She then follows it up with something instantly hilarious that makes me wonder how she comes up with it.

On the way to the mic, our conversation ebbed into familiar territory  - to that of a raw talent I shall now refer to as Duke. Duke indescribably absurd stage persona is one of minor legend within the scene at the moment. He's young - very young, but his ability to coax uncontrollable laughter from even the most jaded people is so distinct that it gets comedians twice his age to scoff in jealousy. I myself would be jealous if I also wasn't sure his stage persona was real. He doesn't have a buffer between who he is on stage and who he really is. He's just Duke; a refreshingly sweet, lovably doofy walking piece of human scaffolding. He's Dostoyevsky's The Idiot only living in a world much more corrosive. Shirley and I both agreed on the car ride up, he needs protection.

I iz comedian!

While I want to know him and get close enough to him to be his friend, Shirley's vibrancy has already made that a reality for her. It's a double-edged sword. Men orbit her like a sun and often get burned to cinders as a result. I myself have been lightly singed; her personality can be so intoxicating even if you're taken or in my case AD (After Dating). Yeah, I broke down and asked Shirley out, she said no and after a day tending to my wounded ego, I got over it. If I've learned anything from a long term 8-year relationship, it's no woman is worth excessive grief. Ultimately romance is just another, slightly richer flavor of friendship. I'm cool with that.

And what I get from this specific friendship is honestly invaluable. Professionally, she's a workhorse and an unabashed ladder climber which potentially helps me once I get the chops to actually bring the funny. She also has an astuteness about comedy which makes her a fun writing partner. What I give in-turn (or at least what I think I give her) is a slightly different road - that of a writer. The more I do standup the more I'm aware my writing would be better suited to TV, books, magazines and blog posts. She'll open doors for me, I'll open doors for her.

Aside from professional help though, she also has a genuinely big heart and a sincere desire to create an inclusive joy de vivre which is what I really admire.

Dinner with Friends Part 1: Cooking with Pam

This week definitely could be going better but I'm grateful for all the positive things that have transpired thus far. I'll try not to dwell on the bad and instead focus on the positive, specifically one night of joy spent hanging with my close friend Pam.

I stated last post that I enjoy cooking especially for people. It's one of the few things in my life that I feel puts me on the nexus between expectation, reality, giving and selfishness. I'm pretty good at it, which means what I cook meets my expectations while exceeding the expectations of those around me. I like to be giving; to maintain the positive relationships I have garnered over the last few years. Though in my heart of hearts I also know I can be pretty selfish too. That's why cooking is so great! It means not only do I get to give something to someone but I get to eat too! It's a win, win, win, stroke the ego, hone the skill, play the nice.

In that spirit, I decided to cook for Pam this week. Pam is a fifth grade school teacher about to throw herself in the predictable but nevertheless excruciating maws of the upcoming school year. I saw her struggle pretty hard last year; a teacher's mood and tenor is as predictable as weather in that it varies from day to day but there are defined, easily predictable seasons.

Beginning of the school year, things are not that bad. She's setting the expectations for the year ahead and prepping mostly the heady parts of curriculum a la state science standards, historical themes, writing and arithmetic goals etc. Of course all that is going to go to hell by the middle of the school year but nevertheless it's something she takes joy in doing.

So I caught her in a good mood when I decided to come over and cook Spaghetti Aglio e Olio my absolute favorite weekday dish. I tossed the spaghetti in sweated garlic, basil, red pepper flakes and olive oil, making sure to get a little of the salted pasta water in the pan to let it all congeal. Pam has a little herb patch on her balcony and the fresh basil made all the difference. I served it with Panko breaded chicken seasoned in garlic salt, black pepper and romano cheese and slow baked in a pan with garlic and lemon. We also quickly microwaved some sweet corn. In my haste to get everything together I once again gave the veggies the short shrift.

Halfway through the cooking process, Pam suggested we watch Death to Smoochy (2002), a Robin Williams and Edward Norton vehicle and shared guilty pleasure. The film has Norton play Smoochy, a squeaky clean rube who fast-tracks through the seedy underbelly of kids television as corrupted forces conspire to end his career and life. Robin Williams co-stars as Rainbow Randolph, his rival who's fanaticism comes off like a cartoon villain. It's not a "good" movie but it is virtually the only movie of its kind. Honestly when it comes to black humor inserted into kids television, I think only Brigsby Bear comes close but that one's a lot more inspirational. Death to Smoochy is just grimy and cruel...which makes it a lot of fun.

Between cooking and the movie Pam and I talked a lot about her kids and how so far, they haven't been acting up in the class room. She's been teaching for four years and claims to have mastered the "silent scold". In other words, she has the ability to confront students about their behavior problems without necessarily succumbing to yelling and screaming. She juxtaposed her reactions to her new kids with that of a couple of recess monitors who, let's just say, were not setting good examples. Can you believe kids, at least the kids in her school, only get twenty minutes of recess?! That's not even a full episode of Friends, how the hell are they supposed to get all that excess energy out; how are they supposed to be, you know, kids?!

I mostly delved into my depression when I spoke (I know fun conversation to have). That and the pain that I've still been experiencing from my training. I don't like this hiatus from running and I am scared stiff of what's to come next month if I can't get it together. Pam was attentive as she could be. I could be wrong but I think teachers are at least somewhat trained on how to identify mental illness and how to patch it all up in the moment for the sake of getting their work done. While I don't think Pam has the benefit of lived-in experience (I'm not aware of depression or anxiety in her family), she knows enough not to fall for common misconceptions and cliches (just cheer up, fake till you make it etc.).

Overall the evening was nice - she suggested a foot rub which I declined at first as we have a bit of a complicated history when it comes to intimacy. She of course knew I'd give in but her victory was short lived as I really was in a lot of physical discomfort and screamed in pain. Pam was kind enough to drive me home after dinner. She kept the leftovers and I went home to digest. The next morning my feet felt worse but I still hobbled to work then hobbled back home. After hours of elevating my legs, I was able to actually go out and write in a nearby bar. It was peaceful.

Vacation

Boy did I need some time off. Because of the eccentricities of my job, the beginning of the classic American school year is the perfect time to go on a vacation. I had been planning to go somewhere for a month or so, and given my penchant for snapping photos of architectural wonders on my Instagram (and of course my love of movies), I decided to travel to Columbus, Indiana to unwind.

Unless you're native to Indiana and/or one of the few people familiar with the film Columbus (2017), the small country town, nestled in a garden of cornfields is a bit of an anomaly. With a population just barely 44,000, Columbus hosts a wide array of unique buildings, structures, gardens and modern art, most of which were subsidized by the Cummins Engine Company; headquartered there. Names like Harry Weese, John Carl Warneck, Gunnar Birkerts, Eliel and Eero Saarrinen all made a lasting impact on this small town with many of their works scattered within mere blocks of each other.

If you're not familiar with those names, don't worry, neither am I. Though, I was delighted that I made a few flaccid connections between name and style. For example Harry Weese not only designed a beautiful little church on the outskirts of town but he also designed the look and feel of the Pentagon metro station in D.C.. As soon as I saw that on Wikipedia I immediately noted the similarities and was proud that I did in the only way a toddler could when noticing the different sizes in toy blocks. Look, I'm not an architecture expert by any means but I know what I like, and the clean semitry common under the umbrella term of "modernist architecture" (probably misusing that label) is very beautiful to me.

I spent three days there, biking, walking and enjoying the quiet serenity. I spoke to barely a soul and while Aly and other friends were concerned about me being isolated, I actually found the entire experience transcendental. The only downside was the food. My diet vacillated between mediocre pub burgers, incredibly bad Mexican and fast food that was just there and cheap.

I got some reading and writing done - I'm almost halfway through "In the Garden of Beasts" by Erik Larson. I could blame my lackluster speed reading on the author's thicket of historical data he puts in his books but I'll just go out and admit it, I'm just a slow reader. I got thirty pages into a play which got me to work out a lot of my issues. It's not very good yet, but I will endeavor to keep working on it since I still think the premise is solid and I like my characters enough to where I think they deserve a resolution.

The last day I was there I met up with a friend, let's call her Flower for the sake of anonymity. I met her on OkCupid last year and became friends instead of lovers. She moved out of Chicago some months ago to a nearby town in Indiana and she was elated to see me. She's objectively happier in Indiana which, thank goodness, but I still miss her and it was so nice to catch up.

I've decided that, other than the mics I'm hosting, I'm not going to make much of an effort to go to other open mics. Despite my vacation, my emotional state is still very raw. Because of the way I scheduled things, I had to hightail it back to Chicago to host my mic then drop off my parent's car in Michigan, which had me frantically driving through the night (Maisie came with me so I wouldn't doze off into oncoming traffic). While I was hosting the mic, the thoughts expressed towards me by girl Casey and Shirley were - well they were unkind. I know now they meant nothing by it, and did it for the sake of entertainment, but I was unsure at the time. At the very least, I'm going to take it easy on the comedy front until the marathon is finally over.

It's crunch time on that front, and boy am I feeling the effects. I went on a thirteen mile long run last week and by the end of it, my feet felt like they were about to fall off. It took me a week to recover so I did my best to mostly walk the rest of the week. Then, yesterday I went on a twelve mile long run and it happened again...I can barely walk today. I'll admit it, I hate running! After all this is over, I'm going to limit myself to a few miles for warm up before continuing on the whole weight training thing hopefully right where I left off. I've stopped weight training a few weeks ago because of all the running and while I don't miss the strain, I do miss being able to pick up heavy boxes without grunting.

Too many levers, not enough control.

Not sure what my next big project to distract me from the void will be. I was talking to yet another friend (codename pending) and we stumbled upon a revelation. I've been frantically looking for a way to get out of my depression and every effort has led to disappointment and exhaustion. Perhaps it's because I'm trying EVERYTHING instead of honing in on and doubling down on things that work. In that regard I've been too frazzled to know what really does the job.

Medicine will hopefully do something (I have an appointment later this month, the wait has been excruciating). Psychotherapy kinda-sorta helps but I'll wait and see if it's more impactful in tandem with medicine. Exercise also helps though the mode of said exercise matters. Biking is straight up joyous but I'll need to prepare a lot if I want to do that during the winter months. Strenuous, continuous running is...stupid. It's also solitary which is a drawback. Perhaps I should do a social sport of some kind, like softball or basketball or fencing.

My support group has been very good for me doing everything from distracting me to completely inoculating me from the effects of depression, if only for a few hours. The energy my friends give off is probably the most effective tool I have at my disposal. I love cooking a lot. I'd like to throw dinner parties but I live too far for most to really make that work. I could bring food to friends via baked goods or offering to cook for people once a month. That sounds like fun to me.

Guess I should also give meditation another try. Ugh.

What Do We Owe Each Other?

No matter how bad things get, I can always depend on the support of my friends to steer me in the right direction. The last few days have been excruciating. The latest spiral has left me in a state of total disarray from top to bottom; the feelings of which were so intense as to get me to the point of contemplation of suicide. I had a plan and the means to go about it - a thing I've been told is probably the biggest warning sign one could express.What got me back from the precipice? I'm glad you asked.

As I said previously, my friend Reese told me, "don't believe in yourself, believe in the me who believes in you." As powerful as that statement is, it barely put a dent in the cloud hanging over my head at the time. I was too hung up on the here and now - how I was feeling, how what I was feeling monopolized my thought process, then feeling the guilt for having it monopolize my thought process. What Reese statement did do was provide a context - a frame - that lured me out of the episode I was in.

Aly was my first line of defense and the first person I spilled the beans to. She recognized what was going on almost immediately as she had seen, up-close what these kinds of episodes can do to people. She couldn't quite get me to go to the hospital but she did get me to call professional help and provided a lot of concrete resources I can now utilize, now and in the future.

She showed up to the fundraiser with her boyfriend whom I was excited to meet. He seems kind, decent and level headed which is what she wants and needs. Also in attendance at the fundraiser was my friend Darian - a friend I met through a mutual friend; my sister from another mister Maisie and, of course Reese.

Have you tried not being a dick?!

My friend Pam showed up and tag-teamed with Aly to make sure I wasn't alone on the night of the fundraiser. I'm not sure how many people were queued into what was going on with me, but I made little secret of it due to the stress incurred by hosting any important event. Pam arrived late - while parking she almost got into a row with a Wrigleyville hooligan who stopped in the middle of the street to bang on her window and demand to know why she took advantage of the parking space that was freely available.

I stayed over at Pam's house and the next day we spent the day together doing what I love to do best...eat. We went to the world famous Calumet Fisheries for breakfast, gorging on smoked salmon and catfish before driving up to Sweet Mandy B's for some of the best cookies in the city. Pam tapped out half way through her molasses cookie so I indulged - wound up in a sugar induced coma by the time I got back to my place.

Odd friends are fun...

The next day, my friend Youssef invited me to a sketch accountability group - the sole members largely consist of just me and him, but whatever. Center at the core of my being is the incessant urge to be where I say I'm going to be - a sentiment I think he appreciates. We discussed our sketches and where they were trying to say before devolving into me watching him play videogames and simply shooting the s**t. I don't know that much about Youssef other than he's a weirdo in the best possible sense. His aura is a welcoming kind - the kind that can only be expressed through a singular person whose been an outsider for most of their lives but loves people deeply and eternally. I adore those kinds of people and try to emulate when I can.

You telling me there's more f**king steps?!

I went to my final showcase before vacation. The venue was a rickety, claustrophobic attic on the far north side. Shirley was there (she was also at the fundraiser) and helped me hobble down the stairs as I had broke the seal on a 13 mile long run and was feeling the effects. She drove me home after the show and we had one of those long, winding conversations that one can only have at 2 in the morning with close friends. She then spent the night (nothing untoward happened).

I am loved. I've always known that of course but this past week I was reminded of it and how much that matters - how much I matter. Immediately following the fundraiser, I sat in a restaurant booth with Maisie, Darian, Reese, Shirley and Pam with Aly there in spirit. There was so much love in the room and for a while there, I felt most of my problems melt away.

I am not strong enough to deal with everything - the everyday struggles of life, the extra strain I put upon myself to strive for more, the brain that I possess that tries to kill me every once in a while. But the truth is no one is strong enough to deal with those things alone - not a single goddamn person. But not only is that okay, that's a evolutionary advantage. It means that we have to rely on others and create lasting bonds if for no other reason than they help us last through troubled times.

I was too tired to fight on for a bit and immediately when I made that known and clear, people came out of the woodwork to fight on my behalf. They're superheros! Maisie with her kindness and ever youthful spirit, Pam and her incredible pose under pressure, Reese and their unsurpassed wisdom, Aly, her superhuman empathy, Shirley and her unending loyalty, Darian and his trust and Youssef and his welcoming openness.

These people, among countless others mean the world to me and despite what mean things my brain says to me, I know I mean the world to them too. I will be there for them, that's a promise. I have to be - I owe them that much.