“You’ll thank us later,” they said. In a mess created by oneself, they had cleaned it all up. Mess after mess, pile after pile, plunge after plunge, deep dive after deep dive. You get my drift. Misery had been lurking in every possible corner and they had had enough. In a moment where you are not capable to see clearly, where you are no longer able to set things straight, they take over. An intervention for the better, although you fight it. But they’re stronger. They haven’t been in the battle, they’ve just been watching on from the side lines for a very long time. And they’ve had enough. They’ve decided. There’s nothing you can do about it. You have no more force to fight. They’re your only option.
So you do thank them later. Sometimes the day after. Sometimes much further down the line. Friends, also known as shit pile picker-upers. And for this, you always thank them.