My Dear Jon Letter

I would imagine that you're feeling blessed by all of your supporters, and would have to spend months thanking everybody if they came by your house one by one. That's the great part about opening up your life to the world, the sympathizers, the understanding listeners, the loyal fans who will always remind you that you are not alone.

But you and Heather kind of do that for me, Jon. I know the depression, the cruel rhythms of cyclothymia, the anxiety that somehow manages to undermine one and convince us that nothing will ever be OK again. Even in a neutral point in my life, remembering those feelings makes me want to cry.

It's not just the mental illness issues though, not exactly. It's seeing that I'm not crazy for wanting a child, that I could possibly have one or two or a million without ruining their or my lives. The aching pain of a young woman starting her maternal yearnings combines with my eternal fear that it is not the world that is wrong, just me.

I don't think I can ever really explain to you how much it means to me that you let me into your life like this, especially at this point in time. I just want you to know that you give me hope that one day I could be a good mother.

Give Chuck and The Crackhead my best.