Mar. 14th, 2017

My first exposure to suicide was <lj-user="cagedwriter61">.

Well, okay, maybe not my first *ever*, but I spent thirty minutes tracing my LJ entries and on June 14, 2006, I wrote a really freaked-out private post full of capslock and anxiety because I thought this unknown person whose fic I sometimes enjoyed was gonna kill themselves. I remember the sick panic that filled me as I read her post and typed my own in a flurry of emotion.

Today, 11 years down the line, I found her LJ again and she's still alive. The journal isn't active and I can't find her anywhere online, but she was writing fic at least through 2015, before moving to a now-defunct Wordpress site.

It's crazy how time does that. I remember the visceral fear of loss that gripped me as I wrote out my post at 15; and now at 26 to know she's also survived and come to a truce with her demons - that's powerful stuff.

It just feels very hopeful. Like. We can do this. Look at us doing this. Surviving, living, thriving one step at a time.  

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bitchy_merlin

March 2017

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