Thanks LT,

I'd planned on today being my last regular check in with the helpline, as my schedule is a little different over the next couple of weeks.
Then I got an email saying that H is unwell today.

The administrator said that they understood it would be helpful to speak to someone I've spoken with before, and offered me a slot that wouldn't work.

So I rang in and spoke to somebody new.
It's been a while since I had to start at the beginning, so I kept having to backtrack and fill in bits I'd missed.

I was watching TV on Friday night, and a comedian was asked about his experience of coming out.

'It's about admitting it to yourself: this is who I am.'

When Steve came out, I didn't understand why he would do so.

My first thought was 'What difference does it make?'

That's something I'm still trying to understand, so I appreciate such moments.

There's a part of me that goes 'Ooh, learning opportunity.'

This time, I found myself getting angry, because although I'm glad the comedian's experience seems positive, I feel a strong sense of injustice that it couldn't be that simple for Steve.

The griefquake came on Saturday morning, as I realised that the new shoes I'd bought were too big, and began to cry...then I realised that I definitely wasn't crying over the shoes.

I'd signed up for a writing workshop on the theme of joy that I then had to switch into 30 minutes later.

Plus I'm still trying to figure out what (if anything) to do about Julio's funeral.

Add a layer of work stuff, and you have my current state of being.

Thanks for listening.

Lost