He reached out today.



It was a phone call at first.
"Im having such a terrible day, I'll be so late tonight.. I need to talk. Can I talk please?"
"Of course," I said, and he vented about his day. Traffic was ass, containers were poorly placed. He didn't get his first load until 7am. He lost the key to the crane, had to go back to the warehouse, get another, and go back to his container.
He had to go, things to do, but still anxious.

A little later, a message popped up.
"I am afraid of dying."

I wonder that he thinks about this now because we have growing children.
Quietly, carefully, I explain he is not alone. I explain gently, that some of what I deal with are hallucinations involving being found dead, the cause is never there - only that I am gone, and he has to deal with that. I explain, "I worry about that shit to. A lot of people do. Mortality is a weird thing to think about."

He never answers, busy I assume.

But then 130. A little ding.
"Ok, thank you. I am glad I am not alone."

"You aren't" I reassure him. I think about it a while.

Was this how he wanted to try?
"I don't see the problems" he'd said, "But I'll work on communicating."
That was his answer when I asked, practically begged, that we seek help.
A safe place to talk.

Small steps. We'll see.