Words for Friends #5

This is part of a new series of blogs entitled Words for Friends, in which I will try to acknowledge some people in my life for whom words of thanks are not nearly enough.

These living epitaphs to my true and lovely friends are published in a random order as fancy takes me.

#5 Louise

Louise is a fairly new friend who I met through social media, but someone I already regard as a close and kindred spirit.

Emotionally we are similar souls, and we also tick all the boxes that makes someone a close friend.

She comes from my home area of Sussex, supports my beloved Brighton and Hove Albion, lives for music and books, is a former English teacher and now an editor, an ardent socialist and activist for Jeremy Corbyn, and a campaigner for Palestine.

And like me, for a lifetime she has battled deep anxiety and depression and the curve balls that life throws our way. She expresses those struggles with refreshing honesty.

But of all the qualities of friendship I admire the most, is her care for fellow human beings.

More than once she has been the first to ask how I am feeling, and more than once volunteered practical support. Thank you.

I am so glad we met Louise, I can see this friendship lasting a long time.

Words for Friends #4

This is part of a new series of blogs entitled Words for Friends, in which I will try to acknowledge some people in my life for whom words of thanks are not nearly enough.

These living epitaphs to my true and lovely friends are published in a random order as fancy takes me.

 #4 Jude

I met Jude by something in this life we might call divine coincidence.

Jude had read a couple of my blog and Twitter postings about the sexual abuse I suffered as a young teenager and soon made friends via social media.

She is an intelligent young married mum of three lively children and is in a constant battle with social services over her ability to care for them. You see, she too had suffered similar extensive sexual abuse as a child and like me was struggling to find ways to express her emotions. And like me, that struggle has sometimes relied on self-medication.

She too has resorted to writing poetry as an escape valve for her continuing angst. Her poems are epic and written from the soul.

For more than a year we have been swapping our poems and our stories. Now she is writing her autobiography and I have promised to edit and publish it for her.

Jude is a precious fellow traveller and now an equally precious friend and confidante.

I am sure that she will not only survive, but flourish.