who Heather Armstrong was. I'd read just last week about "being Dooced" from a job, and filed it away, but then today was traveling through the blogosphere, following my nose, and found my way to Intellectuelle (wonderful site, btw) and from there linked to dooce.com.
Oh, my goodness. I laughed until I cried.
Still, I was not surprised to read of Heather's struggles with depression. My mother had the same incredibly wonderful hilarious sense of humor, the same huge talent, brains, beauty - and the same kinds of monsters.
Heather's way ahead of it, though. She knows when she needs help, and she has a wonderful husband and one of the cutest babies ever, ever, ever.
God bless Heather and all those out there who struggle with depression, and the ones who love them.
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