A friend shared this terrible story with me.
Overwhelmed mother dives off a cliff, or boat ramp in this case, with her children in the car.

Mothering in really hard.
I can't imagine doing it alone.
I often feel a great deal of forgiveness for my own mother when I find myself ready to jump.  How on earth did she do it?

I remember meeting Mark at the door when Maxwell was a baby and we were awash in money problems due to Maxwell's  health issues and I was working full time and caring for a baby that required tube feeding throughout the night, and saying

I really need you to ask me how I am

because at the time there seemed no bottom, to the place I was falling to.

I wish someone had checked in with Lashanda Armstrong.
I wish people would check in more often in general.
My family are frequently mortified by my lack of inhibitions when it comes to talking to strangers.

are you ok?

would you like me to hold your baby for a minute?

Can I help you with that?

It isn't that I am some kind of candyassed do gooder, it is because I hope like hell that someone will be there with a stick, if the day comes when I am drowning not waving.

I got a call the other evening from an old friend that had gone through rehab over the summer and clearly by tone of voice and my inability to get a word in edgewise, had relapsed.  I talked for a while and ended our conversation with
Don't not call if things are bad.  I don't care if you are fucking up, I just need to know you are ok.  I mean I care, but I am not judging you. 

Mark shakes his head.
He has very good boundaries, which I admire.
I, on the other hand lack boundaries, despite loads of training, despite being an award winning facilitator.
I will bail your ass out of jail at 4:00am and bring you groceries, I would hold your hair while you puke and wash your dishes, buy you a coffee and watch your baby, because if I was in the weeds and you were my friend I would expect the same.