Whelp, I wrote my complaint now I have to back up all my emails on a hard drive before they disappear. Oh man, I think my complaint is kind of damning but fair, so all I got to do is attach the attachments, and send it. Oy. It's not scorched earth, but it gets a little close.
My head hurts, my little brother called, he made me cry by helping me understand why I don't do well in hierarchical structures and that is why I'm loved and hated. IDK,. I kind of think it's like because I'm incredibly strange or something. He also listened to me tell him all about my secret desire my kid would die so I could plunge myself into the void, without judgment. I love that about my brother. He also agreed with me the kid is like, the best thing ever, and I could never really wish it but depression sure starts talking. We also talked music, and that was pretty cool. He sent me free software for musical mixology and I my dragon headset should be high enough quality. He's doing Okay, says he is seeing students on skype and he sounds so happy, He's like making friends, and doing stuff. He's in NY state (But rural) so his steel structure is all shut up but he's doing so Good I'm so happy for him.
I want my own version of "At least we Stole the Show" so that should be cool. I love that song a great deal. I don't know why it speaks to me so.
Like, it made me remember all the times I visited him in Tucson and he was a mess and we'd smoke the funny stuff together and he introduced me to the spliff. That ,if anything hastened me toward COPD because, like it's the WORST way to deal with those two substances together, and then you have the mandatory after spliff cigarette. It is mandatory. And we'd smoke and talk and hang out. It was the best, even though sometimes I'd get there and think he wouldn't answer. But he lived.
My spiritual mommy said there is like this "hot potato" of depression that floats around our family. Everyone else is doing great, maybe it's my turn. I had 15 years of well, not always good times but 15 years depression free. l have forgotten how to live with it, so it's incredibly painful but I just have to do what I have to do.
I emailed my spiritual mommy to ask about counseling (I obviously need it) and she costs 200 bucks per session and it's not covered by
insurance. It is worth every penny however. The husband always pays her the minute her bill arrives. I'm just trying to seem not to vile, in case she retired, she has to sometime.
I was so lucky to have someone in my life like her. If not I'm sure she can suggest an equally competent and expensive alternative..
I am so sick of crying. My goal today is to bathe.
Anna
Anna