Yesterday a friend told me that his child’s young teenage friend had overdosed on pills in the night, leaving an email in the wee hours to some friends and family, explaining that he was “done,” and it was time for him to go. Luckily, one of those friends was wakeful and saw it in time to save him, but it was a close thing. It made me think of how

I feel awful right now. Not physically. Physically I am well, so far. I have no signs of ill health. But I cry every single day. Often more than once. There are days when I am so tired of struggling with it all–the Coronavirus, the world’s political and economic situations, the causes I care about, the hopelessness and the fear and the paranoia and the infighting and the censorship. I