Before I go any further, I am dedicating this blog post to my newest guardian angel. Someone who truly cares about not only me, but everyone in her life. I feel honored to be a small part of it.

I know, I know. I haven’t posted in a week. This time, however, I thought it was best if I didn’t post. Last Saturday at 1:15 a.m., I experienced one of the most traumatic episodes of my life in Kansas City. It was very explosive. To say it was painful would have been an understatement. I was about to throw my iPhone and cause other destruction, It was going to be far worse than the hole I put in the door leading from the kitchen to the basement at the house in March 2006.

I called the mental health center where I am a patient (see below) begging for my therapist. I said I was suicidal and that I only trusted her with my problem in Kansas City. Well, this got a lot of people alarmed, and about an hour later, the Russell police came looking for me at 1224 North Brooks after receiving a call from the mental health center. My dad said I was in Kansas City, and Russell’s police wanted to contact the KCPD. The only thing that saved me was the fact my dad didn’t know where I was.

In the wee hours, I began posting some very nasty things on social media. I left Kansas City for Russell at 10 a.m., and that’s when the eruptions began. Mount Steinle was belching lava and hot ash over the skies along Interstate 70. The only good news was drivers were not going to be buried like the unfortunate souls on the side of Mount St. Helens 35 years ago. I said I would never help anyone again and become a gigantic jerk (well, using a much stronger word). I compared myself with Lauren Hill, the courageous young lady who lost her battle with pediatric brain cancer in April, but before she did, got to live out her dream of playing college basketball for Mount St. Joseph’s College in Ohio. I said Lauren had it easy compared to what I have to go through with Asperger’s Syndrome.

The rant about Ms. Hill was dead wrong. She showed so much courage in battling a debilitating disease and kept fighting until her very last breath. And here I was ready to give up? That’s cowardice, not courage.

Then I made a huge mistake. I got personal. I said I hated someone. Then I went extreme and said since the person I said I hated didn’t like me anymore, I would commit suicide. I asked sarcastically “Who’s watching?” As one might imagine, that drew a bunch of bad responses. Someone said I was drowning in “toxic self-pity”. Very true.

I am very fortunate a guardian angel has come into my life. She guided me through some very rough times with both tough love and tenderness. It was a very dark and scary period, and I am lucky she was willing to listen, even if I angered her and left her feeling she could do nothing to help me.

Actually, this beautiful lady is the second guardian angel who has taken me under her wing recently.

The first is my therapist, Crista. I penned a letter to her Sunday outlining just how depressed i was about the whole situation, and I outlined a plan of how I would take my own life. Well, the Russell police were back Sunday night, and the officer read my letter I was going to deliver to Crista’s office in Hays Monday morning. The police took me to the Russell County jail, although I was not arrested (I was handcuffed, but the cuffs were put on in front, and I was not read my rights), fingerprinted or searched.

Eventually, I held a video conference with one of Crista’s co-workers, and she determined it was safe for me to go home, since my parents could keep an eye on me. The Russell police faxed the letter to Crista, who called me Monday afternoon. She was very worried  saw me Tuesday since she had an opening in her schedule.

I felt terrible I laid so many things at her feet and I got a little belligerent when she would not accept one of my suggestions. However, she said no because she cares and she didn’t want anything worse to happen to me. We have another session coming up Thursday, then three more on the docket in August. Before I began seeing Crista in December, I would have been in a lot worse shape. I didn’t have anyone to talk to really. We all need a little help sometimes. I’m fortunate I don’t have to go it alone, thanks to Crista and a lady who reached out to me when

My newest guardian angel lives in San Diego. San Diego isn’t the most popular city among Kansans, given the Chargers are a division rival of the NFL teams favored by the vast majority of Sunflower State residents, the Chiefs and Broncos. The rivalry in baseball only exists between San Diego and Denver, since the Padres and Rockies are in the same division, although the Royals and Padres do share a bond as being the postseason victims of the steamroller which was the 1984 Detroit Tigers. Both cities also received NBA franchises from other places; the Cincinnati Royals moved to Kansas City in 1972 and renamed themselves the Kings (actually, the Kings split their first three seasons in the heartland between Kansas City and Omaha before moving to Missouri full-time in October 1975), while the Buffalo Braves moved to San Diego in 1978 and were renamed the Clippers. Both Kansas City and San Diego were without NBA basketball by June 1985; the Clippers moved north on Interstate 5 to Los Angeles in the summer of 1984, while the Kings headed to California’s capital, Sacramento, one year later.

I started communicating with my California confidant in March. We had a common thread, since she works at a company whose product I am a HUGE fan. of. In fact, it was one of the biggest reasons I kept going to a particular establishment in Kansas City. The other reason I was in KC so much were the people. I could have used this product at many locales closer to home, including one each in Hays and Salina.

Last Saturday, desperate for someone to talk to, I began sending direct messages via Twitter to her. She told me to hang on, to push through it, and to call the National Suicide Prevention Line. She wasn’t the first person to tell me to call the hotline. I also had sent messages to another Twitter follower, one I had met at the establishment in Kansas City.

Monday was another terrible day. I kept telling these two ladies how much I felt one person had control over my life. i was becoming delusional. It was sad. Finally, after the session with Crista Tuesday, I began to think it over, and I came to the realization that I, not the person whom I had the run-in with, was to blame.

All I had to do was speak up and ask. All I had to do was back off. I told my San Diego sweetheart my new thinking. She liked it. I think that lifted a huge weight off of her shoulders, too. She knew I wasn’t going to hurt myself. She knew I would get better. As it turns, out, the establishment  in Kansas City would like for me to come back. There are still plenty of people there who care about me. I know I wronged this young lady. I want to apologize.

However, time is needed. The wounds are still too fresh, too raw. Maybe they’ll never completely heal. Right now, I need to make sure I’m emotionally ready to handle it before I try. One hundred percent ready. And I am so thankful we’ve progressed past that. We’ve been exchanging messages on Twitter and Skype the last three days. I’m so happy she’s come into my life. Even if I never meet her in person, I have found someone I know I can count on. Someone who will help me as much as she can. That takes someone with a beautiful soul, and my newest angel has it. So does Crista.

It’s hotter than hell in western Kansas today. I’m taking it easy. Nothing in life comes easy, and totally forgetting what got me so down in the first place is no exception. It isn’t worth dying over.