Chapter 3 – The Beginning

Everyone knows that when a person does something out of character, something shocking and harmful, or hits rock bottom, it did not just happen overnight. It started from somewhere and it is up to you to figure out when it began and were there signs. If you are lucky, the person who has been affected will share it with you and help you fill in the gaps. Just like I know exactly when I slipped into my latest bout with depression to almost the exact time, what triggered it, and what was the incident to set me off, I also know when I first started experiencing depression. For me, it started as early as 14 years old, even though I did not know what was going on. The signs were there, and no one could figure me out. It made me suicidal in high school. I should have gotten help then and I did try to get. I look back at my life and a lot of my self-destructive behavior was due to my depression. It would take being heavily addicted to drugs before it finally made people aware that something was not right, and I needed help.

I was 14 years old and the middle kid in the family when my mother decided to get married. Suddenly there were two more kids in the house that demanded attention. I had my brother and step-sister with their teenage rebellious streaks, a narcissistic step-brother with a smart mouth, and my younger sister who was about 5 years old. Because I was so quiet, it was easy for me to blend into the wallpaper and go unnoticed for the most part. I was very insecure, which was a catalyst in my depression. The first signs that I was in trouble were my lack of personal hygiene. I do not know from the start why I was like that, but it lasted for years and was one of the main reasons I was bullied in high school. I was also becoming aware of my sexuality and confused about it. So, put together my hygiene issue, questioning my sexuality, and insecurity, and you have a very troubled kid. No one knew what I was thinking because I never told anyone. All I knew was that I was in a lot of emotional pain and did not know how to handle it. By the time I was 16 years old, I was suicidal. I went to see a counselor in school and cried about how much pain I was in. I didn’t get much help in high school, so I carried that torture until I was 21 years old, when I went to a therapist for the first time. He was not that interested in me or his job and it was evident because he kept falling asleep. It ended up not lasting long when I was forced to tell my mother and she did not handle well. She thought I was telling the therapist that all my problems were her fault. Between that and my strong religious background, who frowned against therapy, I was done in a month. I secretly saw another therapist some years later, and all we really talked about whether I was bisexual or gay. Also, I was trying to seduce him because he was so attractive. That also lasted a few months. It would be 10 years before I would seek and find professional help. Within that time, I would come as being gay, develop a serious alcohol problem, lose a great job and my first apartment, become a convicted felon, and last, of all, become greatly addicted to crystal meth.

If you suffer from depression or know someone who is battling depression, please get help as soon as possible. You can call the National Hopeline Network, 1-800-SUICIDE (784-2433); the National Suicide Prevention Hotline, 1-800-273-TALK (8255); the National Youth Crisis Hotline, 1-800-448-4663. 

If you are battling addiction, or know someone who is battling addiction, please call the National Addiction Hotline, 1-888-352-6072.

Chapter 2: Reflection

February 17, 2018. It’s a typical sunny Saturday morning, but nothing about this morning is typical. I am not the same person I was a month ago. I am not the same person a week ago. I feel completely different and that scares me. Why? Because a week ago I came face to face with my illness and my demons and they merged into one, and a new side of me was born; one that could have taken me out of the world. I was confused, scared, high, and in my own personal hell. It is not like they had not merged before in the past. But this was different. Every facet of my life was affected, and it was now engulfing my personality and turning me into someone I didn’t recognize. I didn’t trust anyone anymore. It didn’t matter if it was family or friends. You were now my enemy. The only persons I trusted was my therapist and my sponsor and I had no problem walking away from them for days or weeks at a time. The only thing that mattered was the madness and fear that now ruled my life. I was incapable of showing emotion even though I was very emotional. I stayed angry. The only thing was changed that was the prick of the needle full of crystal meth as it entered my veins. For just a little while I was happy in my own world. Was that a good thing? Hell no! It only would make things worse. Did I care? No! For the next seven days, all that mattered was crystal, G, pipes, syringes, and dick. If you could not offer that, we really had nothing to talk about. I dragged friends into my madness without thinking about how it affected them. When they got upset with me, I responded with anger. I was desperate to keep the small circle of “friends” I created, not knowing how to make them happy because I could not even make myself happy.

When I wasn’t using, the depression got worse. Nothing hardly made me laugh. The things that made me happy no longer was a source of joy for me. I stayed sad and gravitated toward television shows that made me shed tears. It was the only way I could show emotion. As I laid in bed watching Nathan’s funeral on General Hospital, it was the closest I came to finally cry and letting go of the pain I was feeling. But the show was only 42 minutes long, and by now I knew how to pull back my emotions and keep the pain in. My room was a junkyard, with wrappers, bottles, dirty clothes, smelly socks, and me, laying in the middle of it. It had gotten so bad that to avoid seeing people, I filled 7 2-liter bottles with urine to keep from walking out of my door. When I finally threw them out, the bag was so heavy it was a miracle it didn’t break. When I finally decided to clean my room, I had to get high because I knew it was the only way it would get done, for tomorrow promised to have me back in the grips of my depression and I would retreat to my bed again.

My mother has been calling me for 2 1/2 months until she finally gave up. She knows I will call her when I am ready. I recall the last conversation with when I told her that my depression was bad. I had no idea it would take me down such a dark road until it would threaten my very existence. If I didn’t understand what depression, I got a front seat education on it now. It took a 7-day run on 6 hours of sleep, 6 days of shooting up, being strung out on G, the huge amount of crystal in my system, the countless men, the taking advantage of friends also in trouble, and on the road of losing my room and maybe everything else to finally say, “I need help. My depression is strangling me. I can’t think. I can’t breathe. I can’t stop.” I entered the psych ward of the hospital nervous, but also relieved. After sleeping on an off for a little more than a day before getting back on my meds before my head started to clear; and when it did, the guilt and realization of my actions started to take over. Whereas the depression is getting under control, now I am faced with fear and anxiety. I woke this morning and nearly had a panic attack. I know I need to pace myself right now, but I cannot help feeling that nothing will be the same ever again and I am not the same person I was when I went to Florida. I feel like I have lost a piece of myself and don’t know if I can reclaim that part of me again. I am fearful of all the people in my life. I can’t help but ask myself, what the fuck have I done? Can I ever face these people again and will they forgive me? Will they understand that depression is real and can take you down the darkest roads if you let it? Will they understand I was not myself and had no control of myself? The question I guess I should be asking is can I forgive myself and understand that even though I am responsible for my actions, I was sick and unable to make the right decisions? I expect consequences and I have already seen one that hurt me, but will I let it take me back out there and eventually take me out? Can I come to terms of how serious my depression is, and I must stay medicated for this not to happen again? Can I come to terms that need to stay off drugs to be the person I want to be? Or will I let my guilt and shame kill me? `

I get it. I know I am overwhelmed right now. This is the closest I have been to being myself in 3 months. I have things to fix and it will not be fixed in a day. I didn’t get to this point in one night and I cannot expect everything to be okay in one day. I have a lot of therapy to do. I must understand how I let one Facebook post send me into a tailspin. I still need to understand why my family is such a trigger for me. I need to understand more about depression. It is a lot to grasp. I guess anyone could get overwhelmed if they in my shoes right now. All I know is the old me is gone, maybe forever, and a new me has emerged; a more vulnerable and cautious me. That self-cockiness and confidence are gone for now. Will it return? I don’t know. Either way, I need to accept this new me and move on from there.

If you suffer from depression or know someone who is battling depression, please get help as soon as possible. You can call the National Hopeline Network, 1-800-SUICIDE (784-2433); the National Suicide Prevention Hotline, 1-800-273-TALK (8255); the National Youth Crisis Hotline, 1-800-448-4663. 

If you are battling addiction, or know someone who is battling addiction, please call the National Addiction Hotline, 1-888-352-6072.

You don’t have to go through this alone. There are people who can help you.

 

Chapter 1: The Winter of My Discontent

           This had proven to be a harder winter than he expected. Winters have always been hard for him, especially between Thanksgiving Day and Valentine’s Day. It had gotten to the point when he expected it like rain. As a person who suffered from depression, he knew what to expect. Around Thanksgiving, he would be mildly depressed, but functional. It would gradually increase until, by February, he would be in full on bitch mode. He would be so evil by then until no one could stand to be around him. But this year would prove to be different, more dangerous. By the time February would roll around he was about to find out how dangerous it would be.

As a person who dealt with addiction, he knew very well that he needed to be careful. He had a sponsor, friends he could rely on, and a family he could depend on. November started off like any other November. He was cautiously optimistic that he would be okay this winter. He even joked about what his winters were like. Then the second week of November happened. He came across a Facebook post, and life as he came to know it came to a halt and his whole outlook changed. Soon he started spending more time in bed, either sleeping, eating, or watching TV. His presence became less and less until he was hardly seen at all. When his friends called, he would just look at the phone and then turn over in the bed. His friends did not know what was going on, but they knew it wasn’t good. When he finally answered, he only gave one-word answers like “fine” and “okay”. He would deny that he was in trouble with his friends, but he knew that he was in serious trouble.

After the holidays were over, his life started to take a turn for the worse. When before he used drugs occasionally, he suddenly began using more frequently. His tolerance for his drug of choice grew. By this time, anyone who he was close to, he kept at arms distance. He wouldn’t make his appointments, and never even thought about rescheduling them. The only people he stayed in contact with people was his drug buddies. He used not because he body needed it, but because his mind craved it. It was the only time he would engage with people. By the time February came, he was back in full addiction mode, and his addiction was still growing, whereas he would shoot up maybe once every two months, he started shooting up 6 or 7 times in a week. He refused to pay his bills and was in danger of becoming homeless. He knew he needed help, but he also knew rehab was not the answer. You see it wasn’t the drugs that were the problem. Depression was the problem. Drugs were the solution. He needed to be in a mental hospital, not rehab. It wasn’t until his last bender threatened his freedom and his very existence, did he finally accept the help that was offered to him. He entered the hospital for a week and began dealing with the issue of his depression. He knew that he had a long road ahead for him. He looked forward to the spring, for Spring to him was a season of growth, both on the outside and on the inside. Where this season proved to be the winter of his discontent, spring would be the season of his growth and renewal.

If you suffer from depression or know someone who is battling depression, please get help as soon as possible. You can call the National Hopeline Network, 1-800-SUICIDE (784-2433); the National Suicide Prevention Hotline, 1-800-273-TALK (8255); the National Youth Crisis Hotline, 1-800-448-4663. 

If you are battling addiction, or know someone who is battling addiction, please call the National Addiction Hotline, 1-888-352-6072.

You don’t have to go through this alone. There are people who can help you.

Coming Out

Joel was scared to death about what he was about to do. He didn’t plan on going the way it was going and now was powerless to stop this because he got the ball was rolling. “Why didn’t I think this further? What was I thinking?” He could now hear his father’s car pulled up in the driveway. His heart was now beating even faster now. By the time this day was over, Joel’s life would be changed forever…

Joel had always been the good kid in the family. His parents never worried about Joel because they knew Joel would always do the right thing. His parents, very religious and strict, tried to raise their kids to be God-fearing people, always doing right in the eyes of the Lord. Whereas Joel took to the teachings and discipline of his parents, his brothers and sisters did not. They proved to be a wild bunch; drinking and partying every weekend. It was rumored that some of the boys had spent some time in jail for their behavior. Edith, their mother, would cry herself to sleep every night worrying about her kids. The one thing that brought her happiness day after day out was Joel. Joel was the one thing that confirmed that she was a good mother and had done the best she could. The only thing that worried Edith was that Joel was always alone. She knew he was different, but she felt like he should have friends. There was something about him she couldn’t put her finger on it and that worried her greatly.

Joel was different. He was not like his brothers and sisters. He followed his own path in life and for a good reason. Joel was gay. He knew that if his parents found out, their world would be shattered. He was their last hope and being gay would surely wreck their dreams. For a while, he was able to hide it. Soon people started to notice his mannerisms, and it was becoming more apparent that something was up. Joel, Sr., his father, chose to ignore it because to acknowledge it meant that he had to accept something he was not prepared to handle. So, Joel’s sexuality continued to be an unspoken secret.

Senior year came around and Joel was tired in more ways than one. He wore so many different hats until it wore him out physically, emotionally, and spiritually. The only hat he wished to keep was when he was with the love his life, Robert. They met two years earlier and up until now, kept the relationship a secret. Robert had come out to his family 6 months earlier and felt it was time for Joel to come out to his parents. He could see the toll trying to please everyone had taken on Joel. Gone was the sweet, respectful son everyone had known. Now Joel was an angry person. He was on edge all the time. He was extremely careful of his mannerisms and the way he spoke. His parents still looked up to him as their last great hope, and he did not want to break their hearts; but at the same time, he did not want to break Robert’s heart either. It was too much to ask of a 17-year-old kid, and that was he was: a kid. As the weight of this charade became heavier, he grew angrier. He knew he had to do something soon because he was now at his breaking point and it was affecting his grades and jeopardizing his chances for graduation. He had to grow up, be a man, and break someone’s heart. Who would it be: his parents or Robert? He decided whatever decision he made, they would hear it at the same time.

As Joel, Sr. drove up from an exhausting day at the office, Joel was in the bathroom vomiting. He was afraid of all 3 of them, but it was time to face all of them like a man. Joel, Sr. walked in the door and gave his wife a big kiss. “I am so glad to come home to my loving wife tonight”, he said as he smiled at her slyly. “Well I would hold off on that for a few minutes”, Edith said. “Joel wants to speak to the both of us, and for some reason, Robert is here. Do you think it is about school? I noticed that his grades have slipped quite a bit, and I know he is trying.” For a few seconds, Joel, Sr. started to figure it out but quickly dismissed that idea. “It is probably about what school he has picked to go to.”

Upstairs, Joel quickly slapped water on his face, gargled with strong mouthwash, said a little prayer and took a deep breath. He slowly and deliberately walked down the stairs. He did not want anyone to see how much he was shaking. There on the sofa was his parents, and on the other side of the room was Robert.

“Well”, he said shakily, “You wonder why I wanted to talk to the 3 of you. I have made a major decision in my life and I need to share it with all of you. For the past 6 years, I have been wrestling with something and not sure how to deal with it. How do I tell your parents the one thing they don’t want to hear, especially after years of heartache from my brothers and sisters? How do you say to my loved ones that I can never measure up to what they expect of me, even now at 17?” Tears started to roll down his face. He took a deep breath and said, “Mommy? Dad? How do I tell my beautiful parents that I am gay, and the reason Robert is here being because we have been going together for the last 2 years? And Robert, how do I tell the love of my life, that right now I need a break, and figure out who Joel is, and not who Joel is expected to be with everyone else?  You tell them gently.” By now his cheeks were wet from his tears. “I don’t want to hurt anyone of you but for me to live I have to break your hearts. I hope that you can find it in your hearts to forgive me and realize that I will always be that son you have come to respect and the lover that you have come to cherish. I just need this time to myself, because if I don’t, I can never grow into the man I know I can be.” By now everyone in the room was crying.

Edith spoke up, “Son, you do not need to apologize for who you are. Did you really think we would love you less just because you are gay? You are still or pride and joy. You will always have a special place in our hearts. All I ask is a few things: 1) Please be careful out there. You know how the political climate is and I could not bear to lose you. 2) Always make room for God. We have raised you to be a God-fearing man, and we still expect that from you. Once you leave God, he will leave you, and you don’t want that. 3) Please be careful of these fools out there. I have been hearing about this crystal meth mess, and I don’t want you trying it; not enough once. Do you understand me, son?” “Yes Mommy, I understand,” Joel said. “I will continue to be the light in your heart and the man you deserve to be proud of.” Then he turned to Robert. “You know you are the love of my life. I love you and your spirit! Don’t consider this a breakup, because it’s not. I just want to find myself so I can be the man you deserve. I have always loved you and I always will.”

Robert got up from the sofa and gave Joel the biggest hug he had ever gave him. “I will right here be waiting for you when you get back. Now let’s go out for dinner!” Joel gave his parents a self-assuring hug. As they walked out the door for dinner, for the first time Joel felt like everything would be okay. That weight had finally been lifted. As they started to drive off, all Joel could say is, “I am one lucky man!”

Broken

As I get older, the one lesson I am learning is that some things can’t be fixed, or shouldn’t be fixed, once it is broken. Sometimes it is better to walk away rather than repair it because the end result can be more painful than when it was originally broken. When do you apply this logic and why?

For me, it has to do with friendships. Over the years, a person may realize that the person they thought they knew, they actually don’t know at all. That person may appear to be a good friend, but in reality, it comes with conditions that change whenever that person feel like it, usually with none or very little explanation. They may appear to be sincere, but the reality is most of their actions have interior motives or self-serving agendas. They may not even see you as a friend, but just a means to an end; a pawn in their chess game, which will be discarded once they feel like you no longer are any use to them. You have become insignificant in their eyes and easily indispensable. What ends up happening is that they have no use for you until the next time you may serve a purpose for them, and usually that happens when they come to you ready to pick up where they left off. They forget about the pain they may have caused you; the unanswered questions about why the friendship ended in the first place. They forget how vulnerable you became based on their actions. You now serve their purpose again until you don’t. This cycle will continue over and over again until you say that’s enough. I don’t deserve this treatment. I am human and have feelings too. I cannot and will not continue this game any longer. This stops now! Their reaction is that you are simply being a drama queen and you need to get over yourself, but the truth it is the other way around. How does one solve this problem?

Simply, walk; no, run away from that toxic person. See your value. Leave the friendship as it is: broken. In the end, you will be happier and have less stress in your life.

The Pyromaniac

He was standing there staring at the fire he had started. He was memorized by how bright the colors that filled the fire with intense rage. As he continued to be memorized by the fire, you could hear screams in the background. At first, the screams were loud enough where you could identify who it was. Then eventually they became softer and softer until you could no longer hear the screams. Just then, his aunt grabbed him screaming, “WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE, BOY?!?” He slowly turned around and faced her with the most wicked smile she had ever seen. If you didn’t know better, you would think he possessed. She shook him back to reality screaming, “Where is the rest of the family?” He replied, “In the house, of course. Where else would they be?” She stared at him in terror and once again asked, “What the hell have you done? Your house is on fire!” “I know. Isn’t it beautiful?” he replied. They both looked at the burning house and she realized, he set the fire with his entire family inside. “What the hell is wrong with you? Have you gone completed mad? You just killed your entire family!” “I know”, he said with a wicked smile. “Too bad you weren’t there to join them!”

As the fire trucks raced toward the house, she just stared at him in disbelief. “The boy is a lunatic”, she thought. “No, he is a freaking psychopath. It is like the devil is in him.” She grabbed the boy and asked him again, “Do you realized you just killed your entire family?” “If you ask me that question one more time, you’re next! The world better without you anyway!” She was in disbelief. “Did this boy just threaten my life? He did not just say that to me!”

A few minutes after the fire trucks arrived, the police came. The boy saw the police, and he suddenly started crying hysterically. The cop came to the boy to see if he was alright. “She…killed…my…family”, he sobbed pointing his finger at his aunt. “She said that if I didn’t stop crying and shut up, I am next!” Her jaw dropped. “He is truly a psychopath!” She said, “I just got here a few minutes ago. I couldn’t have done it! The boy admitted to me that he set the fire! Why would I do something like that and stay here waiting for you to come? My sister was in the house and he killed her.” The boy started to cry louder. He was shedding real tears. “Please save me from this demon woman! She killed my mommy and daddy.” By now, he was crying so hard until he was hyperventilating. “You expect me to believe that this 8-year-old boy set the fire?”, the cop asked, now frowning at the aunt. “How stupid do you think I am?” The cop turned to the boy and comforted him. “Everything will be okay”, he said comforting the boy. “I will make sure of that!” The boy looked at the cop with his doleful eyes, tears still steaming. “Thank you.” But in his mind he was thinking, “Told the bitch I would get rid of her. She’ll be executed for sure.” The cop got on his radio. “This is Officer Rodgers. I have a suspect in my custody for committing premeditated arson and is responsible for the death of almost the entire family. This is a special case. Act accordingly.” At that moment, he jerked the boy by his arm. “You didn’t expect me to buy that pathetic act of crying? I will admit, you are good, but not that good!” What the boy forgot to do was change his clothes. “I can smell the gasoline all over you. You are one sick kid, you know that? But don’t worry. We take special care of special boys just like you!” Whereas the boy was shedding fake tears, they became real running down his face. The boy begged, “What? I didn’t do this! It was…”. The cop quickly interrupted him, “SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH OR I WILL KNOCK OUT ALL YOUR TEETH OUT OF YOUR LYING MOUTH!!!”

The aunt just stood there. Her emotion was now coming to a head, for she just lost her sister at the hands of her psychopathic nephew. As she watched the fireman take out each body one by one, she didn’t know if she was crying for her sister or for the way boy who just took her sister away from her. “Get your ass in the car, and you better not say one word, NOT ONE WORD!” Disgust was written all over his face. He had never spoken to a kid before like that, but he let his emotions did the talking for him. The aunt turned to the cop. “Can I go with you to the station with him?” “Why” he asked. “Yes, he did these horrendous acts of hate, but if I don’t go with him, his ability to have this hate to the point of murder will consume him, and right now I can’t bear to lose another family member. I have lost too much already tonight.” The cop looked at the aunt with sympathy and sadness. “You are a good, God-fearing, Christian woman with a special heart. I couldn’t do it if he was my kid. I am so sorry for your loss tonight, and if there is anything I can do for you, just ask. I will be there without hesitation.” The cop held the door open for the aunt. As the car slowly drove away, that bright, beautiful color of fire had now become a symbol of death. The ruins were as black as the boy’s heart.

The Transformation of Richard Johnson

     The difference in him was shocking, even scary. “This can’t be the same person that was here a month ago!” Daphne thought. Last time Daphne saw Richard, he was quickly going into madness. No one was safe around him; especially his family and friends. They were his main target. Most times he would get so out of control until he would get violent. His tantrums landed some people in the hospital. His mother was afraid of him. His father despised him. His brothers would have nothing to do with him. Even Daphne couldn’t stand being around him.

     “How does one from being almost psychotic to docile in one month’s time?”, Daphne wondered. “Who is this magic maker and where can I find him?” Just then, Richard’s mother walked into the room. “Please forgive me Mrs. Johnson, but what have you done with Richard? Are you sure he isn’t a twin and you are playing an April Fool’s joke?” “What do you mean?” Mrs. Johnson asked. “Richard is still the same person and no he does not have a twin. Could you just imagine? One of him was enough!” Daphne said, “Well Richard is so different now. What is your secret, and do I need a prescription?” Ms. Johnson just said one name. Nana.

     She started, “Let me tell you a short story. Nana came to live with us a month ago because her house was being renovated.”. Now Nana was a small woman, 4”6” at best. She wasn’t a big woman. In fact, she was petite. Mrs. Johnson continued, “on Nana’s 3^rd night, Richard has one of his famous meltdowns and struck his father, right in front of Nana. Nana never said a word, so Richard didn’t think she saw him. Now one thing about Nana I must tell you. Nana is from the old school. She is from the South. She is also very religious. She thinks that giving kids psych meds is wrong. ‘All these kids these days need is their asses whooped. I’ll bet you they would act right then.’ So, Richard eventually calms down and goes in his room and starts playing videos games. Nana asked her son where his room was. Then she said I will be right back. No one saw the belt she had in her hand. She went to his room, closed the door, locked it and put a chair again the knob so no one could enter or exit. We all right upstairs to listen. ‘So, Richard, my dear grandson. You like to hit people when you can’t get your way, huh? Well, I am here to inform you that no one hits my son or anyone in this house and think they can get away with it!” Next thing we heard was Richard begging, “No Nana! Please, Nana! I’ll be good. I promised to be good. I won’t hit anyone anymore’ Nana says, ‘You should have thought about that the first time!” Then we heard a pop and then a blood curtailing scream from Richard. When she got through with him, he was in the corner whimpering like a baby. Nana fixed her wig and opened the door. ‘The next time you even think about putting your hands on someone I will beat your ass into the next decade! Who the hell do you think you are? Your parents may have brought into this world, but as God as my witness, not only will I take you out, but your name will never be mentioned again. Do you hear me?’ She gritted her teeth. ‘DO – YOU – HEAR – ME, – BOY?!?’ Richard said softly, ‘Yes Nana.’ As she walked out the room, she smiled at us and muttered, ‘Damn teenagers! They don’t know me that well, but I bet you they will!’ Ever since then, Richard has been an angel. If he even thinks of doing something, Nana just looks at him, and Richard starts shaking and pees in his pants.”

     Daphne couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, I want to meet her one day and shake her hand. A true miracle worker” She walked over to Richard and said, “Hi Richard. How are you doing?” “Fine, Ms. Jones, thank you. And may I ask how you are doing?”, Richard said with a meek voice. Daphne almost passed out. “He was polite and called me Ms. Jones.”, she thought. “I am fine, Richard. Thank you for asking.” Daphne turned away and once she walked into the next room, she busted out in laughter. She is going like this Richard, she smiled.