OUT OF THE FUNNY FARM INTO THE FIRE (or, more elegantly: mixed bag of fleas)

Random ramblings from the recently released donkey (beware! Long rambling ahead!):

Some of you “in the know,” know about the expression I like to spread around, “Thanks for the fleas.” This is from Corrie Ten Boom’s The Hiding Place, a story told about her experiences in a concentration camp. She tells of her sister(?) Betsy’s
penchant for thanking God for ALL things. Corrie loses her temper and snarkily asks, “Even the fleas?”

Betsy says, Yes! Let’s thank him for the fleas! And they did.

It came to their attention afterward that their Bible, the only source of hope and inspiration they had, was free from confiscation, because their barracks were flea ridden, and the guards wouldn’t come in.

Yesterday (Wednesday) was a mixed bag of fleas. I’ll get back to that later.

I got out of Woodland Hospital on Tuesday around 1:30. I really wasn’t ready to go. I knew I would have a big load of responsibilities waiting for me, the most pleasant of which would be contacting all the cheezfriends who had supported me. My family and I ended up wasting precious time going to Mercy Medical for paperwork that wouldn’t be ready until Wednesday. Then I had to go pay bills and run errands with deadlines. I had all sorts of nasty surprises awaiting me with my car, as my father and son tinkered with it. It is a ’92 Acura with, I swear, what must surely be a poltergeist inside. Methinks said poltergeist was angered by their tinkering. Nuff sed…

Here’s a synopsis of what happened to me and what I did, since January 27th.

Many of you know the dynamics of my relationship with my father. It is an extremely rare, to the point of shocking, occasion for me to talk back to him and get into an altercation. This is what happened. The details aren’t important, or this post will never end. Suffice it to say that I quickly exploded out of control and into a rage, from all the suppression, and it was ugly. Of course, he did not see this as something to stop and analyze; he merely responded with cold fury.

I was so enraged with impotent fury that I went to my room and continued to drink. (Yes, drink…more on that later, with final positive results)

Eventually, late at night, drunk and in a tunnel vision (that means, dear friends and fellow Christians, that I had no thoughts of my family, including my son, or my cheezfrends, or God. I simply had a one track mind and nothing else. Very scary…when the Bible says “…he who is deceived by it is not wise” that is not a ticket to drunkardness. It is a warning about the slippery slope that drunkardness is…) I pried off the blades of a disposable razor and cut my wrist.

It was harder than I suspected. I then thought about laying down on my arm and making it numb, and then cutting it. Thank God I was too impatient and angry to bother. I just let it slowly bleed and thought I would just go to bed and let it bleed out.

I awoke POd and severely angry to be alive. I finally went to the computer and started researching what I could do for help. I just knew it wasn’t right to be doing this, but I didn’t value myself enough to think I was worthy of going to the ER. It was a scary thought to go to the ER. I have never done anything like this before. I was afraid I’d be treated with derision and turned away. I have no money or insurance to pay that kind of bill. I knew calling an ambulance would awaken the household and might bring derision and anger and all manner of hysteria from my family. (No, I wasn’t thinking clearly…but I can still imagine my father’s face of disbelief and anger at the possibility of waking up to such a spectacle) So I got in the car and drove to the ER. At this point my wrist had a nasty cut in it, but it wasn’t oozing, so that was no heroic feat.

They were so kind at the ER. I was immediately taken into the back and they had me in a room on a bed within a few minutes. I was to end up being there from about 8 am to 4:30 pm. I cried on and off all day. I was sad, numb, and felt hopeless. I was like a zombie.

Important note: if you ever go to ER and ask them to notify your family, don’t. Ask for a phone and call them yourself. I asked them to notify mine, and was told okay (by an unknowing soul, I’m sure) and then lay there for hours and hours expecting with doom to see their faces come around the corner, peering at me, as I lay there feeling smarmy from my incredibly smarmy and selfish act. When they didn’t come, I started to wonder. Finally in the afternoon, I asked again and was told they don’t notify. I found out I could have a phone brought to my room and was told sure! and there was no time limit! I immediately got ahold of mom. I don’t know why I thought my mother would be exasperated and disgusted with me, but she was not, of course. Maybe I thought it because I was so tired of myself that I thought she was, too. She was terribly kind and warm. Unfortunately it was too late for them to get there on time with anything for me before I got transferred to Woodland at 4:30. The techs were so nice and friendly. Everyone was. It was an eyeopening experience. I figured they could all see my lame, wussy attempt at cutting myself and look at me with a pained, disgusted expression saying, “You are wasting our time. We are here for REAL victims, REAL patients, not the likes of your pathetic, whiny self. ” It was humbling to be treated so kindly by everyone.

They drove me to Woodland Hospital in Woodland, IN. It was embarrassing to be wheeled in strapped on a stretcher and knowing all the patients were checking me out. Again, met by much kindness. When I plainly (as I do, donkishly, LOL) told them the chair was too small for my big butt, and I needed another chair without arms, the sweet tech started talking about how tall I was (I’m only 5’5 1/2″, but she was tiny,) as if to say, oh, you’re not fat, you’re tall. 🙂 Such a sweet lady. .

The next day my family came. I felt awkward. Not much smiling. Still zombie like. I think mom was kind of stunned. It truly was a strange thing for me to do. Sean was his normal, computer faced self. Dad was subdued and polite. He did not appear to be drunk. They brought me things.

Never during my stay did I ever feel that taboo feeling of being in a psych ward, or afraid of it. I just cocooned and felt taken care of and calm. Sometimes I cried and was depressed, but it got better.

The food was wonderful and plentiful, and the staff and patients came to care for me.

They diagnosed me with depression, BiPolar disorder, and gave me Antibuse.

Those three meds have me knocked for a loop. I’m always sleepy, and I’m confused, too. I am unable to think of simple things sometimes. I haven’t gone back to work yet. I am stressing over that. I don’t know if I can…I’m a courier. Calling the doctor tomorrow to talk about THAT problem.

I didn’t miss the alcohol when I was in there. Don’t really miss it now, either. Isn’t that strange?

WHile in the hospital, I called work and was told this coworker, a girl I feel like a mother or sister to, a very young married mom with 2 small kids, had lost her husband. He died of a brain aneurysm. His funeral was when I was in the hospital. She had no idea why I didn’t come to it. I was devastated. I called her and cried and explained what happened and how sorry I was. He was the only goodness in her life, I think, besides her kids. How incredibly heartbreaking. I keep thinking about Valentines day and how hideous it will be for her. There is always someone else to make you realize what a whiner you are being. What can I say to her? I am at a loss.

Wednesday I spent approximately 4 hours messing around with a Medical like office. You’d think I’d be about crazy. I filled out the form wrong, and basically was an idiot. Poor clerk. I was very calm though…then started crying at some point (before the paperwork fiasco) for no discernable reason. Just sat there and the tears poured down. That’s what it’s been like. This crazy behavior.

Coming home I thought about my cheezfrends, and how much they love me and support me and what a heinous, selfish thing I’d done. And I realized even given that, they loved me anyway. Then, for the first time, the enormity of God’s same kind of love struck me and I felt like a worm. I began verbally accosting myself and crying.

I started questioning my good works. I decided I was a coward who did good deeds because subconsciously I am afraid of punishment and I think being good will keep me out of trouble, not because I am a good person. I basically ripped myself several new orifices on the way home, howling all the way.

Then I decided to throw melodramic attention w…. into the mix, and that I was beating myself up so I could get my melodramatic-spike fix. I was doomed. I could think of no good intentions, no purity of motive to defend myself. By the time I got home I was exhausted from the self-attack and its resulting confusion.

That’s what I’m going through. It is very selfish. I need the positive feedback, yet I feel guilty about it.

I am staying hopeful for when the meds kick in. Right now I’m just kind of feeling strange.

More later if I think of it.

Thank you to all who sent love and concern, and posted and emailed. I love you all so much. You help get me through. Bless you and yours.



  1. Darling sweetie, we love you. Don’t beat yourself up. Give yourself time.


  2. {{{kafleen}}}

  3. Dear Kafleen, Fanks for teh open wurds. It is not YOU who is whiny, heinous, and selfish. It’s the depression. I think of the depression as a hideous transparent parasite that clings to your head and back and oozes into your skin, sending all these thoughts of unworthiness, selfishness and despair into my head. It is not you. You are a person. A donkey, even. That is even better because a donkey can give a 4-way hoofing where a human can only give a one-, at best a two-leg kick. AND you can were golden shoes for tap dancing. Take your meds, cut yourself some slack and learn to distinguish between the parasite on your back and your own personality. You are a wonderful person, donkey, cheezfriend. You are loved. Schmoos from Upfi

    • Hi Kafleen via Upfi! what she sez about depression–another analogy–Depression is the always-more-clever than you-chess opponent. VERY tough to outwit. It hijacks our intelligence! We are all hoomins who seem to contain other hoomins…subsets of teh self.
      Self is….well…an ever evolving concept thru history, nuf sed. Today finished a novel that mentioned the idea of morality that not only comes from above, but also “horizontally”–from n to all the surrounding fellow persons and co-factors. Our mutual support relies on this aspect. In that spirit I sendz out a Cheezpeepz fuzzy paw to embrace yr hoof. Take care K.I.T. if U wish. BGCMEOWRRRR

  4. Oh, my dear.

    There is a philosophical thought that all good works are for the benefit of the self.

    The good news is that all BAD works are also done for the benefit of the self.

    Therefore, each person has a choice in their inherent selfishness: Will I use it to harm people, or will I use it to help people.

    Overwhelmingly, you use all the things you do in life to help people! Thus, you are a truly good person, because faced with that choice, you choose good over bad.

    I love you so much. I’ve never met a person with more helpfulness and good intent. Do not at all feel guilty about needing the positive feedback; we all do. None of us exist in a vacuum. It’s easy enough to go through life thinking that nobody loves us, while neglecting all those around us who need our love. You don’t neglect. You always let us know that you love us. How could we fail to do the same?

    *massive hugs* I am eating rose bouquet shaped waffles covered in lavender honey and strawberries, in honor of you getting out.


  5. Dear Kathleen,

    Can you receive your own email now?? Because i have so much to say to you.

    But before I even get to that, please stop beating yourself up about being selfish. You may think you are, but believe me, you are NOT.

    As for your self worth – please always remember, when it comes to that, that one of the most wonderful things you do is to make people happy. You make me happy. And many others. Just knowing you – even as little as I do, has added a wonderful little ray of sunshine to my life. And it’s nothing you have to work at – nothing you have to do – except just be yourself.

    I do not think it is possible for anyone who posts for a long time at ICHC – and interacts with other people, can hide who they really are. I think – just from the way we interact with one another, everyone’s true character is revealed. In a way that it possibly is not in real life. All the people I have met so far from ICHC (and, if I’ve counted right, it’s 37!!) have been just the people I expected to meet. The ones I really love are still the ones I really love. The ones I just like are ones with whom I seem to have less in common. So your true character has been shining through – and you see how much people love you for it.

    So toss all THOSE self doubts into the trash can! You may have other flaws – don’t we all!!! 😉 but that is certainly not one of them.

    I’m going to start on my letter now. Silly me – I didn’t check to see where you sent your message from!! But never doubt your self worth, problems or no!!!

    MUCH love to you!!
    Your now and always friend

  6. Oh mai deer donkey frend!!! I haz such a giant sad tu think uv awl deh sadz u haz. U are so speshul adn wundermouse!! Pleez don’t ever doubt dat u am lubbed!!! Weneber I see ur liddlol donkey avatar it givez mii a happy!!!!! U are so caring and luvving and u haz such a grate sense uv humor!!!!!

    Pleez tu taking gud care uv urself fur mii.

    giant hugz adn schmooz tu u.


  7. Dearest Donkey,
    You are loved.
    mais oui.

  8. Hello, my dear sister! Please remember that all self-accusation comes from the accuser—the enemy of our souls, ol’ brimstone breath himself, for he is called the accuser of the brethren (and the sistren, for that matter!). ALLhave sinned and fall short of the glory of G-D. That’s why Jesus came in the first place. I know you have read the 7th chapter of Romans, where the Apostle Paul sounds a lot like you just did–“what I want to do, I don’t do, and what I don’t want to do , that’s what i wind up doing! (Janey translation)” Then he says, “Oh, wretched man thar I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to G-D, IT HAS ALREADY BEEN DONE through Christ Jesus!” And opens what has become chapter 8 with that wonderfully true verse:
    There is , therefore, now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus; for the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set us free from the law of sin and death!

    What can i say but to tell you that this was something that the enemy intended for evil, but the LORD intended for good! Part of this comes out of finally admitting how much you hurt and are angry. You have been through enough to cause any three people to go through a real psychotic break. It just jumped on you all at once, that’s all. I am proud of you for facing yourself. “In all these things we are more than conquerors!” No-one can do this in their own strength–as one of my friends down in Thousand Oaks is fond of saying, “The Christian life is not difficult. It’s impossible!” So don’t beat yourself over the head over this. So you messed up? Yours was just a little more spectacular, that’s all. I don’t see you holding the cloaks for the people who are stoning Stephen. We all get wrapped up in self, and as one of the pastors in our church said recently in a sermon on the Prodigal Son, we have to repent of our goodness as well as of our badness. We ALL need to repent of it! We are all in this together, honey. I am standing with you, holding you up, loving you, and praying for you. I love you, sister-o’-mine! And i am proud of you for talking about it all. You are going to get through this all, because He is able to keep you from falling, and to present you FAULTLESS before the throne with great joy! it’s not what you do, but what he has already done that defines your worth. You are of infinite value–an infinite price was paid for you. The good works are not for earning anything, but because we were created gto do good works. They flow out of who you are.

    Enough. G-D bless you, dear heart, exceedingly abundantly above all you can ask or think. You are in my heart and prayers always.
    All my love—-janey

  9. Oh Dawnkey,
    I readed dis becus I knew it was impawtant to yoo. I has a littl sad dat yoo belittle yor experience – dat yoo feel liek it was “a wimpy attempt” – honey yoo wer in payn an nawt yorself, an sinse yoo felt yoo kudn’t skreem an hry owt lowd yoo taked yor payn inside an den it hurted too much so yoo wanted to mayk it stawp. We has a GLAD dat yoo is nawt an eggspert at killin yorself an wants to mayk sure dat yoo duz nawt need to practiss agen! If yoo go bak inna cheez-digests yoo see dat evrywuns respons even to the mostest vague “kafleen is in trubbl” posts (becus she was protektin yor privacee) wuz “How kan we help?”

    Finkin bak abowt sum uv de fings yoo writed, I finkso dat bipolar sowns liek it to me. Dis nawt yor fawlt – yor brayn kemistree is nawt rite. I wish dat dey hadded a better idear abowt brayn medisins, cuz it sumtiems tayks a while to get dem adjusted, but yor plan uv restin an heelin dis weeken an talkin to yor doktor on Monday abowt dem is a gud wun. Rite now yoo rests, sleeps if yoo wants to, eats well an tayks yor vittymins an let peepls care for yoo. If yoo has wurrees or konserns dat yoo is afrayd you’ll forget, write dem down so yoo nawt hav to dismember dem.

    I is awn medisins for depreshun an while I nawt has two polar bears I remembers how awfuls it can be – mine manifests as angzietee an I wud go days wifowt sleepin which is NAWT helpful to gettin betters. I know dat uther cheezees hav been in de saym leekee bote, so yoo is nawt alone. No wun will fink yoo am nawt worthee or wimpee – just dat owr deer frend is hurty. We knows dat wen yoo is helfier yoo wud do de saym for alluv us. Dats whut cheezees do.

  10. Dearest Kathleen,
    You write so beautifully, I could feel every emotion that you were going thru. I am sorry you had to go thru this, but maybe in a small way, it was a good thing. Perhaps the release of emotion at your father will force him to take a good look inside himself, and what he has done to his family. We alcoholics are good at being blind to others.
    I really missed you, and your sense of humour, and “seeing” those beautiful golden Donkey shoes! I know I don’t know you well, ut I feel like I know your heart, and it is so big and so good, ai has a beeg prowd tu be knowin yu! See yourself as we see you, a wonderful person who has a few problems (who doesn’t?) and one who is much loved by all the folks of cheezland. You might (or might not) be surprised at the number of cheezfrens who fight the “Black Dog” just like we do. It is like we were pulled to ICHC so we could all support one another.
    I have rambled on enough, please tu be noeing how much ai lubs and respekts yu, ok?
    Hugs an scmooes, an beems an hedboks tu you!!
    Cindy (3kom)

  11. Hello, my dear, dear Donkey,
    Nawt sekund, I wants u to no daht everytime I sees yr avatar oar yr name, I gets a beeg ol smile on my fayse. Daht is how u affeks me. becuz u is so wunnermouse and suches ov a beayutiful person.

    then, I sez to u, I iz sorree u iz sad and I unnerstans wat taht iz like. I also takes teh aunty depression drugs. an sumtimez they duz nawt help so much.
    and onst, I had a borked leg (iz nawt borked get in teh d’d truk), and Mr. sK lawsted my meds, and I did nawt take dem foar a few dais. and I wented, well, off-trak. and had a fren take me to teh ER. and I did nawt haz teh nise eggsperience u did. They treated wat I thotso wuz a borked toe (I walked into my cane), but ignored teh crying and teh depresseds and such. just ignored it.

    So I am very very happy that you were so well received and so well cared for. That is of utmost importance. Nobody made you feel worse, instead they all worked to help you feel better.

    We love you and do not want to lose you. You are important–to us, to your family, to the world. so, as others have said, don’t practice then again, K?

    and thank you for posting this so we can understand what you are going through. That was very kind and very brave–both of which I know are integral to your personality.

    Lovs frum
    sk, who sez she thinks teh negateeves will suun leeve u due to u yr meds kikin in, so hang in there, Baby!

  12. Dear Kafleen,
    I am a newbee on LOL but i can see how very much you are loved and appreciated! Do not give up! If these medicines do not help enough, have them try some others for you! They will help! When you get the right mix you will be so surprised at how much better you feel and you can look back with surprise at how bad you did feel!

    I look forward much to seeing you on the cheezesite again!

  13. OH, poopie socks !1!!
    I am so glad you were drunk–if you had been sober and doing self-surgery, who knows what might have happened!! Doesn’t God work in mysterious ways? (moar fleez?)
    First, please know you re not alone–so many of us suffer from depression related sickness (and that is exactly what it is–a disease like pneumonia or diabetes. And it can be dealt with like any other sickness, if you are willing to work with it and try to accept that you have a chemical ‘quirk’). It seems like the more tender people are, the more we see the pain and want to help the world, the higher price we pay. We treat the sickness with all sorts of fun stuff–alcohol, food, illegal drugs, 28 (!) kittehs–but it needs more than that, and then we feel awful. I guess you know that, eh? And it seems like an inordinate number of the lovely folks on line at ICHC are caught in the same cycle. (me 2, me 2! ai nose dat dans!!)
    You just ripped my heart up when you wrote about your attempt to stop the pain by alcohol and razorblade and then continued to chop yourself up–‘whiney’, ‘weak’! You are none of those things!! You are Kathleen, the amazing child of God who got the goofy brain chemistry, the not-too-great father, the magical way with words and the friendship of dozens of people who really truly care about you! Give yourself a break, girl–Breathe!
    We don’t really know each other–I appreciate that. But I have read your work, and feel honored to be able to have done so. If you need me, I know thereality and have made it to a ripe old age (pffthbt!) thanks to good doctors and chemistry. Be in touch, if you feel safe.
    Life is doable, and so worth it. Trust in God, and almost as importantly, reach down, grab hold of the wonderful Kafleenness and trust in yourself. You can find your way home, donkey girl! We are all so happy and relieved you are still here!!

  14. Kathleen,

    I hope that what I say helps you to realize the value of your life & how everything you feel or experience in life is important & valid.

    I am an ER nurse in a level I trauma center. Many days, we see some of the most tragic and senseless events occur to people, families, 3-week old babies….the whole gamut. It reminds us that the world is dirty, raw, unfair & harsh. Sometimes, we are speechless about the magnitude of tragedy that families, or lone individualsa have to bear. It is, however, also a moving testament to the INCREDIBLE STRENGTH of the human spirit.

    But, that’s not completely my point. When I first started working there, I was going through a divorce, but I felt awful & guilty that in the face of others’ obvious hell, I was still so destroyed over the end of my relationship. How could I cry over my pathetic broken heart when a man watched his wife and baby infant die horribly in a car accident? And then, one of my mentors – a crusty old army nurse w a heart of gold – just said to me: “you know what? We all have our problems.” and, I realized that she was by NO means minimizing the torture of any of our patients’ situations, but she also wanted to be sure that I wasn’t minimizing my OWN problems.

    In that ER, I have learned to be grateful for SO MUCH in my life. But, I have also learned that there will ALWAYS BE people who’s struggle is worse than mine, and people who barely struggle at all. EVERYBody’s struggle – including my own – is valid, REAL and potentially just as heartbreaking. If you measure your life against ANY other life, you will find reason for both humility & pride. But, the one thing that must always remain vital to you is your faith in yourself, and your IMPORTANCE to the world. Your problems ARE IMPORTANT bc YOU are important! Without your problems – the big & the little ones, you would not make some key decisions in your life that could affect the course of so many others.

    I have learned from my job that life is filthy, raw, revolting, vicious…and incredibly INCREDIBLY beautiful. This means YOUR LIFE IS TOO!

  15. Dearest Kafleen,

    You are NOT whiny or heinous or selfish!!! You shrieked for help in the only way you could at that time. When we have no words to express the immense pain we feel, we declare it in the method that comes to us, however ugly we feel that may be. You did not die, you got the help that you desperately needed, therefore what you did was necessary at the time to get the help you needed. The crime is that you are so ignored that you need to do something drastic to be heard.

    Sweetie, I’ve been where you are. I was trained not to ‘bother’ people when I was in pain, and took rather too many sleeping pills one day, rather than ‘bother’ anyone. It’s pure fluke that I only took enough to be unconscious for two days (barely breathing), and there was no one there to notice anyway. After umpty-ump years of therapy, I learned this one thing by heart: Depression is Anger, turned inward against yourself, instead of outwards towards the people who’ve earned it. Ok, two things: one of the best defenses against depression [and its immobilizing power] is physical action – when I want to just go to bed and die, that’s the time I need to get out and walk and walk and walk. After a mile, I’m just about ready to keep living; after two miles, I have a list of people I’m taking out just before I go; round about three miles, I decide to kill them and save me; takes about four or five miles for me to decide to let all of us live, although I reserve the right to beat the crap out of them, cos they’re all still pains in the ass.

    Stay with us, dearest Kafleen. You are loved and treasured by all your Cheezfrends, and by non-Cheezland friends too, I have no doubt at all. When the world piles up too deep to cope with alone, reach out to me or to one of the many other people who love you – we long to give back some of the love and caring you’ve shown to many of us. Having been trained not to, I know how hard it can be to ask for help, but please remember that we are here for each other, good times or bad.

    With love from Nicewitch (also known as Cherril)

    • O, an ai forgottid tu saying dat ai ar awn auntee dipressivs, an ekspekt tu bee foar awl mai lief, wich bees beddur wif dem dan wifowt dem. Ai ar 53, an mai illniss strechis bak awlmoas 45 yeers. Ai had tu giv up mai regler doktur (hu sed he ‘dint bleev in doas medsins’ – sillee ole man) in oardur tu getting teh halps ai niidid. Ai still has tu fite teh ‘shaem’ ai wus traynd tu feeling bowt hassing mentil illniss, sew ai remynds maiself dat ai has nuffing tu has the ‘shaem’ foar, cos ai jus has teh daibeetees ob teh brayn, an noebuddee hassing teh shaem foar daibeetees.


  16. Kafleen,
    While I don’t think I am as eloquent as many other people, I will say this: Modern medicine is wonderful, I’m not only a spokesman I am a user too! I myself didn’t leave the house for 9 months. It takes time and love, things we in Cheezland have in abundance. I have no qualms talking about my past problems. I feel it is the lack of discourse that adds to the stigma. Keep talking, everyone who says “Me too!” is taking a bit of pain and stigma away. Give the meds time, they don’t work as fast as you wish. I know I am new to ICHC but It feels like… home. Welcome home!

  17. *schmoo* onna donkee noze!

  18. {{{{{{{{kathleen}}}}}}}}

    oh my dear donkey, i know what it’s like to feel unworthy. but we are all God’s precious children, which makes us worthy, and He knows our pain and feels it with us. i’m glad that the people at the hospital were instruments in His hands to give you the comfort and help you needed. take your meds, work with your doctors to find what works, and remember that your cheezfrends (and all your other friends) love and value you. your wonderful birthday gift to me came during one of the most difficult times i’ve ever gone through in my life – you were truly an instrument in God’s hands to help lift me through that time. My life and the world are better with you in it.

  19. deer sweet Dawnkee…
    teh whirld is a mush bedder playze wif yu init.
    Plz noe dat yu am lubbed by awl!
    yur turtlol fren
    and Miss Bonny sends hedbonks, wich am RILLY speshul, cuz she duzzint ebben hedbonk ME!!!!

  20. Dearest Kafleen,

    So many people have responded to you and really they have already said everything I would.
    I have known depression, it runs in my family (especially the women) and am currently trying meds since my best therapy efforts still weren’t making the world less gray. So far results are positive – nicewitch said it really well, it’s just like any other physical disorder.
    I also have known the misery of being dominated by alcohol (or alkomaul – can’t remember who said it but it’s perfect). Alcohol and depression are a terrible mix – it feels like it’s making it better when it’s really making it worse.

    I am glad that you are getting the help you need, and glad that I still have the opportunity to know the wonder that is Kafleen.

    Kitty Roo (aka Anne)

  21. Ohai mai deerest donkey frend! Iz sorree I didunt write earlier. I was too unshure I mite say sumfing rong and mayk fings worse. I was a lurker awn ICHC foar kwite sum time befoar I came out awf teh shadows, and ur lubbly avatar and funny/luvly/caring/troll-hoofing commints were touching mah hart frum teh berry nawtsekkund time. Iz so honnered to be ur cheezfrend. U is teh great. No buts and no ifs. And whut u wrote has so much strength in it, and u has so much courage to publish it! I has an impressed.
    A frend awf mine wunce gave me a littlol poem, because her gnu me and I so much no teh feelings u is going fru, even if nawt that badly. Mebbe it’s a good fing foar u to know, too (prolly nawt purrfectly translated, sry):

    Don’t worry about your faults and weaknesses.
    Without them you’d be perfect.
    But not a human being anymore.

    lub and hugs from teh hunnybunny {{{{{kafleen}}}}}

  22. I don’t think I can improve on what has already been said here, to be honest, so I’ll just give you a hug. {{{{{{kafleen}}}}}}

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