Sitting on an Amtrak train in Charlotte, NC, in the middle of the night, I find myself awash with unexpected feelings that I find hard to articulate.
I got a beautiful note the other day from an old friend. She has been reading my blog and wanted to express her support for my AT thru-hike, even though she’s not in a position to contribute money.
I replied, of course, that her thoughts mean far more than a donation would, and I meant it. There are parallels between her situation and mine that bring tears to my eyes. She is going through some terrible times right now and it seems she is drawing some comfort from my writings.
I can’t begin to describe how odd this feels to me. A motivator in trying to be open about my struggles with depression is certainly the hope that my story can help others…
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