THANK YOU KIND STRANGER!

I know he’s not everyone’s cup of comedy tea, but I absolutely adored Tim Dillon’s special I’m Your Mother which premiered on Netflix last week. Among the bits which covered his friendship with skinny tie enthusiast RFK and America’s fear of China and TikTok, he also tackles the lack of shame people have these days when speaking about their struggles and how it affects them mentally. Although the bit revolves more around the trend of self-diagnosis, it made me ponder on how open I’ve been on Substack in the past few years about either my cancer issues or my current state of kinda/sorta homelessness.

Any time prior to all of this stuff happening to me, I would be the first to chide any adult for being so forthcoming to more-or-less strangers. To me, it was nobody’s business but your own and bothering anyone else with it was attention seeking behavior. It wasn’t until I was smacked in the face with my own mortality back in 2021 surrounded by a very meager support system that these individuals’ actions made sense. It quickly became apparent being so guarded would only make the stress of the situation even worse and I should grasp for whatever help that was out there. If it meant reaching out to faceless people who merely knew me from something I wrote, so fucking be it. I had to take advantage of the remarkable fact that someone somewhere responded to something I created. If I wasn’t going to be diving into a pool of gold Scrooge McDuck style for my efforts, then the aid of strangers would surely suffice.

So, as I listen to the clock click incessantly in the background, I would like to thank anyone who has reached out in the past few years to give any support when it was needed – whether it was buying a shirt or just dropping a line. Even though the physical health is holding up, the mental is struggling as I still float in the hobo ether, waiting for my financial compensation to start chapter two of whatever the fuck you’d call this non-charmed kinda life. I guess what I’m trying to say is: don’t hesitate to reach out and see how I’m doing. Every little bit helps. Be aware that this is not a one-way street. I’ll be your Lucy Van Pelt if needed.

And, as usual, I know I will cringe to no end once this is posted. But writing embarrassing posts has gotta be better than letting whatever I think is unspeakable fester inside. I guess that’s about it. Thank you for not laughing.