At the Youth Hostel, at exploding point, and between sobs, Steven was the first person I texted. I hardly knew Steven - we met just before I left - but he could always express what I knew all of my friends and family had in their hearts but didn't have his words for.
'I'm hating every minute here - is it too early to come home yet? I feel so fucking stupid and naive - what was I thinking?'
His reply...
'First thing - I really feel for you and the stress of (such) a new situation. And, yes, it is too early to come home. I know nothing about it, so, disregard this freely. First, just stop hating it. Take a deep breath. Choose another emotion - just pretend. Second, you'll have input overload -->stress-->freak out (aaagh!). Can you simplify? Uniform daily patterns, and/or rest in a library for a day. Best wishes, love S'
Then soon after...
'If you are going to be near a land-line, I could organise to call (it's cheap) maybe help to hear a familiar voice. Prob give me a day's warning, or today.'
This set me off on a fresh round of sobs, but of relief and gratitude.
How can anyone who hasn't been in this situation fully comprehend how perfect those texts were? I felt hugged and soothed and now sure that, with texts like these, this kind of support, not only could I go on, but that I had to.
This never was just about me...
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