I’ll eventually have to type this, otherwise you’ll never recieve it, but who knows, I may not even send it. If you don’t want to read yet another person relating to you, then by all means hit delete. It’s not as if I’d ever know.

I never drank – honestly, like never – until a few months ago. Now I can’t stop. And the hilarious thing is this…like too many people, I’ve had severe anxiety, repressed anger, and depression my whole life. Even when I had no idea what it was. It spawned little bastards like lack of self-esteem, shyness, and withdrawl. I would skip school and sleep all fucking day.

Sleep was my main mode of dealing with all that crap. I’ve pretty much slept my life away. It was the only time I could escape it. My mom beat me…I went to bed right after. Some stranger yelled at me…I took a nap. Whatever, you get the point. And then one day, my body rebelled. It said, enough of this avoidance, and took me on a trip through a place called HELL. Been there? Yeah. I could no longer sleep or eat. I lost so much weight I could barely function. My mind played tricks on me, my hands shook. When little kids laughed it echoed in my head until I went insane. I’d reached the place I was always meant to go.

So what now? There was no going back. I learned to deal. I wore makeup to cover the circles under my eyes. I continued to hide away, to pretend I didn’t exist. Unlike you, I didn’t document anything. I was a fucking zombie.

In essence, I soaked in my own sorry shit. One day my little sister looked at me with such concern and hopelessness that I decided to run. From Texas to Alaska.

It didn’t help.

Like you said, nature or nurture, you are who you are, and I suppose the sooner you come to grips with that fact, the sooner you can actually live…your way. It may not be the ideal, but what the fuck is that? So my parents didn’t give a fuck, so I didn’t get a good education, so I gave up on myself and disappeared – that IS life. Mine.

And I could even smile. Laugh. For fuck’s sake, be happy. Meet a man, have a baby. Or not.

Three months ago, I lost the one good thing I produced in my life. My son. How, I asked myself, how, how, how, in this shit-eating, judgmental, thankless world could I have forseen this sorrow? And WHY? Remember that fucking Bud Lite commerial “why ask why”? Exactly. It’s a stupid question that lead to bad things. To more questions.

Like: who said ignorance is bliss?

So then drink. I have everyday, to forget. I haven’t yet.

Now, why do I bother you with yet another sob, sack of shit, story? Because your book spoke to me in a way I didn’t expect. It isn’t as though I haven’t read your blog, I read it for that exact reason – I never know what to expect. You’re brave even when you aren’t, you’re expressive even when you are full of shit, you have something to share and we still only get the gist. I don’t know what it is or what it means, but trust me, I don’t think about it that hard. I just read.

I no longer care what people think. If that is the only thing in this life that I’ve accomplished, then right on, let it be. And it may not be today, or 20 yrs. from now, or the moment before I die, but at some point I will see I was blessed. You know, blessings are nothing more than screams on the wind.

Raymi, thank you for all your pictures. That pickle always makes me laugh.

Here’s one of my dog. He thought your book rocked.