Reading this right now and it's just as T. Kingfishery as I was hoping. I love her, her world building and her stories. She brings a bit of magic with every book she writes.

I really need someone who can tell me it'll be alright and give me a hug.

At this point I don't even know who of my friends are actually friends and it's nothing but an exhausting guessing game.

How do I know how to reach out for help when I don't even know who will answer the phone without snapping at me?

Maybe someone to call when I'm in a crisis and need a comforting voice to tell me that someone does care.

But instead I just feel like a dog who has gotten too used to being stuck in a cage gnawing endlessly on their leg. A burden that no one knows what to do with.

Now it feels like I am crazy for wanting to be heard. I feel crazy for being upset that no one knew I was gone. I know mental health issues are taboo, but it hurts when the hardest part of your life isn't even perceived and you have to pretend you're okay.

Sure I had 7 Gran-mal / Tonic-clonic seizures at the hospital. Sure I dislocated multiple joints and suffered through adverse side effects... But at least people made me feel welcome and wanted to talk to me.

I was curious and interesting and people listened when I spoke.

Perhaps she thought Johnny could use some company? I'm very sorry for how hard this year has been.

She was a sweety

I've gotten tanks, warhogs, how to fire several air crafts and how to fire rockets. It's a trip.

Having to block family sucks. Doesn't matter the reason, it sucks.