I wanted to write today...

I wanted to write today before I took a shower, but an old friend from high school sent me a message online. We had fallen out of touch but I still love her dearly as a good friend (and a great person). She said she needed someone to talk to, some guidance for some MAJOR life decisions. She had been having a really hard time with her health (mental health) and school. Basically, her world that she planned was just crumbling before her eyes.
I don't know what it is that made her ask ME, but I am so humbled and glad that she did.
After having gone through the assault, the aftermath, the police, Student Services, the Health Center (and two shrinks), one prescription, changing my other meds to make my anti-depressants work, my grades, school, speech, my parents, etc...
It has toughened me.
This has all happened SINCE high school, so that's what surprises me. I understand if a current friend comes to me for advice - they've seen me at my worst AND at my best, and know that I've got a good head on my shoulders.
But she doesn't know any of that. She just remembered the friend she had back in high school that was able to listen when she needed it.
I told her to follow her heart, to really look inside herself before making these decisions. I explained a little about how I am very much in a similar boat, and what my plan is. I don't know if any of my words will matter to her, but her asking me for help and advice mattered to me. Very, very much.
It reminded me that friends are so very important and that having a real connection with someone is the most precious gift we get (after enlightenment, that is. But that one is way more elusive). It reminded me that I am strong, and there's something within me that other people see that I am unaware of. Idk what she saw in me when she wrote that message, but I'm flattered and humbled and grateful.
So, thank you, friend. You made a day of writing for my own pleasure into a day of gratitude, happiness, and friendship.
All my love to you and the best of luck.