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we bled inside each other's wounds

I wrote this for a new section called "Recovery Stories" on the site that I mod.  Kind of decided to write it on a whim.  Haven't edited it or anything.  So this is what you get raw from my mind at three AM.

Triggering for abuse, depression, SI, ED, suicide, and more.

...My point is... I've been through a lot of shit. People have given up on me.  I'VE given up on me.  People have said to my face that they don't think I'm going to make it...

But I did survive.  And it was worth it.  There is good in the world, and there is beauty in the world.  I once thought there was no chance in hell I'd ever want to live.  To live not because I felt obligated to live, not because I was scared to die, not because I didn't want to hurt my family, but because I actually WANT to live.  And yet I do.

So.  Hang on.  It IS worth it in the end.


If you were following Ki's LJ, on 31 July 2007 this is the latest entry you would be reading. These are the opening lines and the closing ones, the full text runs to something like five printed pages, and it's the best brief snapshot into her life history that we have, from 1989 to date.

(Brad/Silverplate88 writing below the ++++ line.)

Following news of her rebirth there were something more than 300 responses to her final posts, responders writing from mid- April 2008 into June, up to the point her original LJ got deleted. (What you read here is her memorial one.)

On Wednesday 16 April 2008 one of her Friends posted, in part: ... "there were a few things she did that just demonstrated what a great person she was.  She was ALWAYS, unconditionally there for people who needed help... she was always willing to talk to people who needed her, helping others, talking them out of suicide, of taking their own lives.  She was such a good person... she may be gone, but the positive impact and change that she has made on the lives of many won't be."

Well, yes. Also true today, these years later. What she meant to each one of us is private to each one of us, her contact with each of us, before and after April, was different.  It's continuing to be different, too, depending on what paths each of our lives has taken in these seven years.

The title of my memorial post here is taken from song lyrics that describe very well what some of that contact was like irl, or in-real-cyberspace. With many of us, that was it.

We were so close there was no room
We bled inside each other's wounds...
Some came to sing
Some came to pray
Some came to keep the dark away
So raise your candles high
'Cause if you don't
We could stay black against the night
Oh raise them higher again
And if you do we could stay dry against the rain...
I found the Birthday of the Sun;
If I were to hang my head
I'd miss all the rainbows
And I'd drown in raindrops instead
But all things change
Happy Birthday to the rain...
Things change, they don't stay the same
I'm sure it's the Birthday of the Rain
I'm sure... I never said goodbye...
            (from "Birthday of the Rain" and "Candles in the Rain", by Melanie Safka)

Several resonances with Ki: black was a favorite color for a very long time, it usually was raining at Evergreen since it's in the Pacific Northwest area of the USA; she favored candles (as did many of us who lighted them in her honor, one was me), and the bleeding of course.

Each time she was online in her role as TeenHelp counselor, this is a metaphor for what she did: getting close to many people she would never meet except in cyberspace, so close there was no room, and sharing her loving compassion and understanding and encouragement as though it were her real blood.

Rain and sun pass through many birthdays, yielding.    Candles, no.

Light is permanent.

Hang on. It IS worth it in the end.