Things have been a little drama-ridden up in Chez Broad over the past couple days -- nay, weeks. I just haven't talked about it here.

The deal, if you haven't read about in other places, is that I had to tell someone I hold dear to me that I have to keep my distance while they're atttempting to work out some serious shit. It's not because I don't love them or want them in my life; it's that I physically and emotionally cannot watch them do what they're doing to themselves and the people they love anymore. Outside of profoundly sad, the whole thing makes me violently angry in ways that I haven't been in I don't remember when, and I'm not willing to put myself through that anymore. I mean, and I can bear a shit ton of weighty matters -- more than most people, I would say -- and I do it gladly when I'm not forced to, too (i.e. Mother). Thing is, you can't help someone if they're not listening, and like all people who think they have the answers, I'd hoped that my stepping away would turn on the lightbulb for the person. It hasn't. So now, all I can do is hope that at least some of the things I said were taken to heart and that they will stop happening right now, regardless of anything else.

It wasn't at all an easy decision to make. However, to paraphrase the great Dr. Phil from a book that became my bible in my crazy pussy days, there comes a point where I would rather be healthy and alone than sick with someone else.