"Human Services Guide." Turn to that part, and look for "Counseling." Under that section look for "Suicide Prevention." Call that number. They should help you. If you are worried about getting in trouble, don't give your name, just your problem.

If you are abused, or need some advice about your situation—it can be hard to tell what constitutes abuse, sometimes—a similar approach should get you a number: look under "Abuse" in the Counseling section. If you are a runaway, call the National Runaway Switchboard: 1-800-621-4000 (but it was always busy when I tried) or the Covenant House hotline, 1-800-999-9999, which can also handle abuse or suicide. They will keep your confidence and try to put you in touch with someone local who can help you.

The thing to remember is that, whatever your problem, you aren't the only one with it, by a long shot. There is help and comfort for you, if you can reach it. It seems worth a try. This series is ending, but the organizations remain, and it may be that you won't have to depend on God alone for help.

I pondered for months whether to end these Notes with the conclusion of this series, and finally asked an editor, who I think also sweated the matter somewhat. We concluded that there will be Notes in a different series, though perhaps not as autobiographical as the present ones. So this may be the last of the intensely personal, militant essays, at least for a while. If you are a Notes freak, though, keep your eyes open, and sometime, somewhere, when you least expect it, there'll be another.

Which brings me to the matter of the effect of my move on my writing. Well, the delays continued so long that I completed the novel and this Note in first draft before moving. Only the editing—that is, going over it to correct spelling and syntax, add in omitted bits, and set the format for printing out the copy for the publisher—took place after the move. My spot research for Ligeia helplines was the last thing I did; that was at the new house. Now you know.