(Note the past tense.) Yes, I hit the wall, I arrived at rock bottom. No, I did not want to live any more. The dark night of the soul, the darkest hour, period. The tiredness was total and overpowering; I let myself be tiredness personified. The next session with my psychotherapist:
I am tired, so tired of all this. I am tired of being asked what’s next. I am tired of talking and thinking about what happened.
Today marks the 69th anniversary of Steve’s birth. I had planned some time ago to release most of my part of his ashes into the ocean on this day. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I was going to write about it here because this is such a private, intimate and sacred occasion but since something funny, irreverent and even Steve-like happened at the end, I decided to share it. Please don’t continue reading this if you think it is inappropriate to write publicly about this ceremony.