Food for thought from someone who (you Thaddeus) has been there, done it as far as the real American dream: picking yourself up and finding a way.
I’ve been told too many times since my CPTSD & aspergers and their co-morbid conditions came to light that the fact I am still alive and keep asking questions, challenging assertions made of me by various professionals, that I reach out on the bad days and seek help from the monsters tearing my soul apart… That all of that means I have not given up. That I strive to do more, even though most days I do not feel it.
Then one day while my son was showing me an article about a war hero and how that man felt about his accomplishments, that he hadn’t done anything special, he had just done what he thought needed, nothing more.
I think after this medium article, I now better understand you the person, Thaddeus, and through you, myself a bit better. Because I have given my phone number to long distance strangers and told them, “call me any time you need me, and yes, that includes the middle of the night when the darkness threatens to eat your soul.” And I have talked several people, in the middle of the night when no one else is there, down. More often than not by just listening. Not telling them the doctors, ER’s, professionals they should go see, the drugs they should go try, no. I just, listened.
I have only lost one to date (that I know of, over more than three decades of doing this and people coming n going). And I lost that one when she choose to give up trying and severed all internet and communication ties. I’ve lost one to their demons. But the others… I showed them the tunnel is dark, but at the other end, it opens into new horizons, if you will risk walking through. For we must all walk through the doors provided us. No one else can do it for us.