WHO says

The Black Dog.

It is awful knowing what you need and not being able to afford it.

What Would I Say?

I went to lunch with Kim2 on Thursday.  She asked if I could talk to my former supervisor what would I say to her?

I've been thinking about this and I know I could not talk to her, because she would not listen to me or take what I tell her to heart.

If I could be promised that she would, I would tell her that people's dislike of her has nothing to do with her skin color.  I would tell her that she is intelligent and honest, but uses neither in a positive way.  I would tell her she is despicable, condescending, judgmental, and controlling.

I would let her know that she consistently violates the NASW Code of Ethics:

When she speaks or gestures negatively about her colleagues:

(a) Social workers should treat colleagues with respect and should represent accurately and fairly the qualifications, views, and obligations of colleagues.
(b) Social workers should avoid unwarranted negative criticism of colleagues in communications with clients or with other professionals. Unwarranted negative criticism may include demeaning comments that refer to colleagues’ level of competence or to individuals’ attributes such as race, ethnicity, national origin, color, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, age, marital status, political belief, religion, immigration status, and mental or physical disability.

When she tells those without licensure they should not obtain licensure because then they will have to take clients with Medicare:  

Ethical Principles

The following broad ethical principles are based on social work’s core values of service, social justice, dignity and worth of the person, importance of human relationships, integrity, and competence. These principles set forth ideals to which all social workers should aspire.

Value: Service

Ethical Principle: Social workers’ primary goal is to help people in need and to address social problems. 
Social workers elevate service to others above self­interest. Social workers draw on their knowledge, values, and skills to help people in need and to address social problems. Social workers are encouraged to volunteer some portion of their professional skills with no expectation of significant financial return (pro bono service).

and

Value: Dignity and Worth of the Person

Ethical Principle: Social workers respect the inherent dignity and worth of the person. 
Social workers treat each person in a caring and respectful fashion, mindful of individual differences and cultural and ethnic diversity. Social workers promote clients’ socially responsible self­determination. Social workers seek to enhance clients’ capacity and opportunity to change and to address their own needs. Social workers are cognizant of their dual responsibility to clients and to the broader society. They seek to resolve conflicts between clients’ interests and the broader society’s interests in a socially responsible manner consistent with the values, ethical principles, and ethical standards of the profession.

and

Value: Integrity

Ethical Principle: Social workers behave in a trustworthy manner. 
Social workers are continually aware of the profession’s mission, values, ethical principles, and ethical standards and practice in a manner consistent with them. Social workers act honestly and responsibly and promote ethical practices on the part of the organizations with which they are affiliated.

I could never trust her.  She kept telling me I could, all the while going to the COO and planning my demise.  I know this from things that she said to me during meetings.  I told her I could not trust the COO and she told her this.  

She made derogatory comments about the way I dressed and the way my friend Kim1 dresses.  She is a bully.  Someone told her that she is afraid of her, and she is taking that as a racist statement and I hope she does not retaliate accordingly.  She is afraid of her because she is a bully.  I was uninvited to a book club because of her, and I feel she said something to the person who invited me and inevitably had to uninvite me.  This was after I left my job.  

I could elaborate more with examples, but I think I have done so in former posts.  

That question

One should never ask him/herself the question when he/she is down:  If you knew your life would be like it is right now, would you have chosen to live?

When things were going bad at Wells Fargo, and I was having panic attacks about going home to Brian, Jess and Brian's ex's essence in our home, I felt my life was hell and out of control.  It was a passing thought to drive off the road at certain points.  It was a mere flicker of thought.  I knew I could not do it.

I went to counseling and figured out how to put some boundaries in place and things really sucked at times, but handing Brian over his problems and washing my hands of them was inevitably liberating. I never considered myself a control freak, but by trying to gain control of his life so mine would be more in control was what I had tried.

Now when I am alone, my thoughts linger back to those times when I could have just turned the steering wheel sharply and...well, my luck I would have lived, but in worse shape!  But I think of that point in my life.  If I knew that I would be 47 years old, have my master's, be living alone, unemployed with my children out of reach, I don't know if I would have kept that car on the road.

I think when I was a kid, I looked forward to being grown up.  I did not feel comfortable being a kid. I was too mature for other kids.  Everything I wanted to play imitated grown ups.  I hated sitting at the kids' table.  Now I feel like I am at the table all alone.  I am still uncomfortable with who I am, or perhaps my circumstances.

One thing that showed up in therapy with me, was that instead of showing my anger outward, I swallow it.  I project it inward at myself.  Perhaps that is the root of my depression.  Some people are angry at other people, or things or situations and they express it outward.  I come down hard on me.  It is difficult for people to be in the same room with the one they are mad at, and I have a hard time being in the same body as the one I am angry with.  Perhaps it will resolve itself.  Somethings gotta give!

Don't worry, I have no plan or intent to put an end to my life.  I could not do that to my family or friends.  Sometimes life slaps you down.  After getting up and being slapped down again, sometimes you just stay down and wait until it feels safe to come back up again.  I hope I get there soon.

Dammit Dad!

Okay, Dad, you wanted a posting - or at least said you were tired of the Amazing Dog one.  I don't know what there is to blog about.  I think about no one knows my life and how it appears to be so much like the movie, Groundhog's Day.

One day blends into the next and they all seem so trivial - lacking any purpose except that of stopping the inane repetition.

Does Stella appear to be pleading I not get rid of her?  She cannot help herself that she is so annoying.  She is a puppy, after all, and she and I have constant disagreement about who should run the show.  Sage agrees that I should, so I think the majority wins.  She needs to comply, I need to crackdown or she needs to go.  Her puppy racks up points in the cute, small, and sweet category, so Ziva may stay if Stella goes.

After helping a friend move for the second time in a year, I decided to begin to unload myself of many worldly possessions.  My friend has so much stuff that maneuvering around her two bedroom apartment is as of yet impossible.  I don't want to continue to drag stuff everywhere and smaller furniture even sounds attractive.  Unfortunately, I cannot afford the luxury of buying anything right now.  So, I am selling all I do not need.  Since I am a bibliophile, getting rid of books is very difficult.  I will have a garage sale and what doesn't sell will get donated.  The library can do with them what they wish and I won't have to see it.  Eric has also decided to take some of our childhood books.  I have the Precylopedias and Childcraft books.  As long as Eric allows me to visit them once in awhile, I am fine with passing them on.  

Ben finally got the first box I sent him and enjoyed the peanut butter cookies and powder.  I have since learned if you freeze them first they may hold their shape better when you seal them.  I will try that with the next batch.  I made him a batch of fantasy fudge, and did not cut into squares.  I figured I will allow the trip to Japan to break them into squares.

What is happiness?  I struggle with depression since being unemployed.  I am trying to find out how to be happy despite this situation.  It is hard, because I am supposed to earn my unemployment looking for a job and yet, that is so depressing.  I have pages of jobs applied for and rejected for.  I think about furthering my knowledge in my field, yet think I should be busy applying and searching for jobs.  Happiness lies dissected and yet my knowledge of what it is and how to attain it, forever illusive.

If I were my client, I would tell me to be around people.  Do nice things.  Volunteer.  Be active.  Set a schedule and follow it.  Find out what is sucking your energy and amend it.  Start on something for 5 minutes.  If you finish, great, if not, you have 5 minutes of it done.  Eat right and exercise.  Shower and dress daily.  But, I am not my client and I won't listen to me.  

There is a new magazine sitting on my table.  It is livehappy.  Osmosis is not feeding me the information.  Perhaps today after I finish showering, if I do, I will read it.  There is also a Happify website.  But it wants more money for me to keep going.  

So, what did I do to myself?  I spent a great deal of time in my head growing up.  I always hypothesized.  I am beginning to wonder if I set my expectations too high for what I thought should be going on in my life.  I wanted a large, loving family, a house that would be the holiday landing strip for my children and a husband that loved me.  I find myself alone, living somewhere none of my family has even seen and no husband.  

Attitude of gratitude.  

November is the month to be grateful.  Someone out there said that gratitude is the key to happiness.  I find that is a bit shallow.  Kim and I were talking about this.  I am grateful for so much.  I really don't take much for granted.  I love my family and each moment with them is cherished.  I love my dogs.  I am grateful for the warmth of my home.  I never take time spent with friends for granted, either.  So, if I am so grateful, what is the problem?

There is a seminar in January in St. Cloud on happiness.  Maybe I will understand it better then.  If I go.  I just might, because it could be a chance to spend time with Kim if she goes with me.  And I NEVER take that for granted.

One Amazing Puppy

I found Stella online in Brainerd. Her owner only had her for a week and said she did not get along with her husky. We met at a parking lot, and did the "exchange." The owner told me she was 6 months old and she was so cute, happy and eager to come with me. The owner had her cell phone in her bra, so I knew Stella was coming from a class act... I decided she needed rescuing.

Sage, my last dog from the gang of three I had when in Sioux Falls, did not like Stella. Stella was quite submissive in asking for Sage's approval, but Sage was not interested. Stella followed me everywhere. In fact, one sign that something was not right was when she stopped following me everywhere and stayed on the couch.

About two weeks ago, I noticed her nipples were large and her belly was getting bigger. I wondered if she had worms and maybe if some dogs' nipples enlarged when they were going into heat. I was waiting for a heat cycle to spay her because it is better for their bladders to wait until after the first heat cycle. As I started watching her belly, I noticed movement. I thought I was seeing things until the night before last when I was positive that I saw large movement. I tried to wash an old bed of Princess' but the washer had an error code. I waited until the next morning to look up the error code. Unfortunately, when Stella pooped 3 times - instead of her usual 1 - and kept trying to pee, I knew she was in labor and washing the bed would have to wait.

I thought I would try to take a shower as she slept, so laid out some towels and sheets just in case. Then I sat beside her and reassured her that I would be right back. She laid her head on my leg and I could tell she was in pain. Her mouth opened and her body strained and she was shaking. I held her head as her back end reared up and she had about three tail-raising contractions that gave birth to the first puppy - white with black spots.

She looked at it in shock and attended to her rear, that was obviously in pain. She really did not attend to the puppy until I tore the amniotic sac with my fingernails. She lay down next to it and started cleaning it. When I went out to have a smoke, she got off the couch and followed me. The first one nearly crawled off the couch. I put the first one in her crate, and it got its head caught between the little bars. It was a comedy of errors...

After quite awhile, the second came - white with brown spots - after the first was clean and we had a break for a bit. Then with much more pain came the third and largest of them all. It is tan with brown mask and a diamond on its head. She was just beginning cleaning of that one, when the last was born. Black with white feet, tail tip, and collar. She appeared to be out of energy and did not notice the black one under her tail with the rest of them nursing and whimpering. I had to bring it to her attention after I checked to see if it was breathing.

It was quite an experience. She is a very good mother and now is growling at Sage, instead of vice versa. She runs to the door when I leave, seemingly in a panic, afraid I am leaving her. I tried to work in my office today, but she kept coming to get me - and then back to her litter, so I had to bring my computer in the living room by the box of puppies. She is content when I am near her and will sleep then. She is really too young to be a mother. I am here to support her and help where I can. She surprised me! Quite the 5-for-1 discount!

Today Stella came and got me. I thought she had to go outside, instead she led me through the kitchen to the doormat in front of the door to the garage. There I found a poop. She was showing me she could not wait while I was sleeping and had to go. This I find amazing. Every time I let her out to do her thing, she races back inside to be with her babies. Sage gets nipped or at the least severely reprimanded if she is in a 3 foot radius of the puppies.

Afraid to walk out my door...

So, last winter a nice guy helped me dig my car out of the snow in my driveway.  I was hung up on the stuff the city allowed to get packed down before they plowed it into my way.

This year, I found out who the guy was.  He is the neighbor's handyman.  He mows, snow-blows, paints, trims bushes, weeds, etc.  He came into the yard when I was out a few weeks ago, and asked if I would go out for a couple of drinks with him.  He said it has taken him this long to get the gumption to ask.  I agreed to coffee.  We met for coffee at 10:00 am and he was dressed up in his work clothes: old t-shirt, old jeans and ball cap.  Really, he shouldn't have.

Over coffee "we" discussed all the stuff in his garage and basement he needed to get rid of, the stuff he has sold at online garage sales, his stepdaughter from a previous relationship, and he did not ask me anything about me.  Afterwards he gave me his phone number and I did not reciprocate.

He has come knocking on my door, caught me outside and talked my ears off.  I don't want to go out with him.  I am not interested.  He even stated that I have not given him my number, and I agreed and nodded. (Yeah, you're right.  I did not.)  He is attempting to discourage me from leaving Brainerd, asking if I contacted that one lady in private practice.  Telling me I should so I don't have to leave here.

He mowed my side of the yard next to my neighbors' yard, went through my cardboard I have out for pickup, thinking I wouldn't mind and has monopolized my time.  I am chalking up the hours of my life I will never get back.  I am irritated beyond belief.  Monday, he came over when the contractor was here to put my door on and started talking to me just to apparently mark his territory.  Yesterday he came over every time I walked outside.  He does not recognize the deep frown on my face or the indifference to his narratives or the fact I don't reciprocate with the conversation.

I hate NOT working, and my time at home is evolving into complete hell with this guy working next door every single day!  I am already motivated to find a job.  He is motivating me to agoraphobia.  Tomorrow there is a workshop at the unemployment office.  I signed up for it just to get away.  Leave me the @#$% alone!

I understand - have been told, anyway - men can't take hints.  I believe it.  The next time he comes over I will make certain he gets the hints - I will tell him to leave me alone.

Apparently teens these days would say in disgust, "Stalker!"  or "Creeper!"

I think when I was miserable being lonely and not having anyone to talk to, this was the universe's answer to my request to end my loneliness.  Ha. Ha.  I am not amused.

Magnum v. Charlie's Angels

I remember when growing up, we watched a great deal of tv.  It was our entertainment.  Renee and I wanted to watch Charlie's Angels and Mom and Dad insisted on watching something else.  I don't know if it was at the same time as Magnum P.I. or if they were even competing, but the argument was that Charlie's Angels objectified women.

Years later I caught an episode of Magnum P.I. and realized that women in that series were usually bikini clad and had no significant or powerful role in the series.  I thought about how, at the time, Charlie's Angels may have been the most empowering television show for women.  I did identify with the brainy one in the trio...

The beginning of a hot summer day

     I awoke at 5:30 am, unable to sleep any longer.  What does today bring for me?  I placed a cup of yesterday's coffee in the microwave and went outside to smoke.  The fox scurried from my yard towards the woods and a deer reluctantly followed.  I walked around, looking at the plants and weeds I have growing, and thought of all the things I have to do.  I began watering the potted plants and set up the sprinkler for the ones in the ground and apparently the weeds surrounding them.  After a month, I see the deer discovered my sunflowers and on the some leaves were missing while others the entire tops were bitten off.  Pests!  The lawn needs mowed.
     The laundry has piled up, which meant for last week, pulling things from the back of the closet for work.  Clean laundry is piled up on the table by the washer and dryer.  Wrinkled now and only in the case of towels and underwear, needing only folding.  Sigh.  I vacuumed yesterday, but as is usually the case, the dogs seem to purposefully shed on the newly hair-free carpet.  I hate this carpet.  I would like to have wood floors.
     I turned on the tv and searched for noninfomercials that may be pleasing to distract me from my to do list or at least allow me to wake a bit before doing something.  I found background noise and went to my facebook.  Renee loves summer.  Hmm... and it is so hot I contemplate a move to Canada or Alaska.  This summer has been a series of plagues and tribulations.  The bees and wasps actually preceded the mosquitos which came in thick following the deluge of rain this summer.  Shortly after the mosquitos, the dragonflies hatched in abundance to eat them.  Poison ivy sprouted early as did my aversion and avoidance of it.  Two weeks ago, (or was it three?) frogs the size of flies jumped to avoid my every step down the driveway.  Yesterday a bat had attached itself to the front of the house.  What next Minnesota?
     I notice guilt in the form of medical bills piling up on the table.  They hide nicely the spot I spilled fingernail polish remover on about a month ago.  Collectors are calling, despite my payments to each of the medical institutions as I am able.  The doctor said I need to stop smoking.  This panics me.  I don't know why.  I am trying to ready myself, but designating a "quit day" is hard for me.  When I tell people, I get advice anywhere from what candy they used to acupuncture.  "Doc Jones" wrote me a prescription for the patch.  No one can tell me how to avoid the emotional crash I experienced the last time I tried.
     Doc Jones is an interesting creature to say the least.  He is a psychiatrist with a plethora of keys on a chain for each institution her serves.  He has an office across from mine though he is scheduled only one day a week there.  He has a fainting couch with blankets in there and an old car or truck door on his wall.  His inherited family doctor bag on the top shelf of his bookcase indicates the title "doc" has also been handed down for generations.  He sports a pony tail in his salt and pepper hair, giving a nod to the early '70s I suppose.  He is always running at 100 mph.  In addition to his psychiatry practice, he has an organic farm.  Who knows where he gets all of the energy to do what he does.  He still dictates his notes, a privilege of his title, I am sure, for the rest of us type our own.  At times he is short and curt, others he is jovial and sarcastic.    
     Yesterday I went to the Celtic Festival put on by Doc Jones at St. Matthias farm here in Brainerd.  It was sparsely populated with what appeared to be some of the more "different" people of the area - me included.  The smell of the peat burning lingered in my nose this morning.  The beer was cheap, but not quite cold enough to have two.  The music was good and two used books relating to Ireland joined my stacks of bills on the coffee table.  There.  Now I don't have to dust.
     After I poured my second cup of yesterday's coffee, I realized I needed to brew another pot for today.  Grumble.  I was not that ambitious.  Fatal loop.  Need liquid ambition to provide ambition for making another pot.  Hmm... I guess I will have to feign ambition for now.
     I know I need to go to work to get my stuff to work at home.  I just don't feel like showering but should in case I run into someone else just as behind in their work as I am.  I have several diagnostic assessments to do.  I get to label people so the insurance companies will pay for their therapy.  My new supervisor insists I write novels for each one as well as their treatment plans.  We get paid for one and one-half hours per DA and nothing for the treatment plan.  Even the most seasoned of therapists spends at least two hours on each.  I have been told there are people with jobs that actually don't spend their days off working.  That sounds wonderful.  I have also been told those hours accruing on my paycheck can be used for vacation.  That's an interesting notion but has a negative impact on productivity.
     I suppose I better get off my couch and be productive today.  I know I can't get caught up, but can pursue being less behind in my work at home and in my profession.  Do I really want to go to law school?  Still thinking about it.  I realize the sooner I start the sooner I will be done.  Right now I need more of a social life, or time occupiers, but can I handle that stress?  Perhaps I will ponder studying for the LSAT and see if it interests me.  They say it isn't what you know, but how you think that will get you through.  Still pondering as I pace through my rut...
 

And the Walls...

Last week I reached my breaking point.  I have been working week after week 6 or 7 days a week.  Easter weekend killed me.  I did not have time to work.  I got behind.  Then a week full of clients in crisis.  Parents who are so focused on themselves they ignore the strangulation marks on the neck of their child who attempted to end it all.

Therapy is tough work.  Tougher yet is the fact that they are turning a therapeutic model of practice into a business, almost production model of practice.  I am scheduled for 4-10 hour days.  Next week I have one free unscheduled hour.  Likely to be filled by a client in crisis.  If all clients show and don't cancel, I will likely meet productivity at the end of the week for the entire month.  For us, it is 23 hours of face time with clients.  It doesn't seem like much when you consider a 40-hour week, but we are required 8 hours a month of meetings with our supervisor and then there is the advanced clinical consult where we review specific troublesome cases with our colleagues.  Between face time with clients and meetings, we are making phone calls, meeting with other professionals, by phone or in person, writing lengthy diagnostic assessments, writing progress notes, and - if we are good - researching evidence based interventions for various diagnoses.

Insurance companies only pay certain amounts.  We get 1.5 hours for a diagnostic assessment which, when you consider the one hour of face time, leaves us .5 hours to review information retrieved from other agencies, enter PHQs, SDQs and CASII's and other measurements to further define our diagnoses, and write the assessment.  Even more fun is that I am on my 3rd clinical supervisor.  Each clinical supervisor has their own method of writing DA's.  Some want every detail and others want bare-boned diagnostic assessments.  Regardless, our overseer, the Department of Health and Human Services, has requirements that need to be met.  Basically with our assessments we need to establish a case for why our clients require therapy.  Suicidal clients make this easy for us.  Clients who wish to improve their marriage or otherwise work on their relationships make this more difficult.  We have to establish MEDICAL NECESSITY.  Sometimes this is difficult.

Last week I had 5 intakes.  Intakes usually require diagnostic assessments.  Even the best and most seasoned therapists admit that diagnostic assessments take them at least 2 hours outside of face time with clients.  I also had phone calls with clients' parents, school counselors, referrals to additional services, difficulties with the software we use for our documentation, meetings with guardian ad litems, reviewing additional court documentation, crises that require additional attention beyond the session and informal consult with fellow therapists on our clients.  My official work day ends at 7.  Some of my cases are so sick and twisted that I am affected by them.  Since I am the last therapist in the office I don't have anyone to debrief with.  Debriefing is so important when you are dealing with the mentally ill.  It helps so you don't take it on personally.  I don't usually have this opportunity since my day ends later than the other therapists.

So, there is a great deal of stress.  Then, our CEO, or whatever his title is, tells us that we have to meet productivity.  One of the clinical directors sent out an e-mail earlier this year stating if we don't meet productivity, we can lose our FTE (full-time employee) status.  This means we would be reduced to 32 hour status, lower pay and less availability for our clients.  I don't think we have any therapists that can possibly have openings in their schedule.  Where the problem lies is in meetings, trainings and cancellations.  We have no control over clients canceling.  This affects our productivity.  Next week I will be in the cities for 4 days for DBT training.  This training is to fill a need the agency has for people to work with clients with Borderline Personality Disorder.  These clients are referred to DBT groups facilitated by professionals and require a DBT therapist.  We have had therapists leave or quit doing DBT because of the intensity and extra (non-productivity) time required.  So, I lose 4 days of productivity.

In order to keep up on my paperwork, I now work Fridays, Saturdays and sometimes (like today) Sundays.  Since I am salary, I don't get reimbursed for this.  My pay is very low for a therapist since I am not independently licensed.  I need to supplement my income somehow.  This will probably involve working nights and weekend beyond my normal night and weekend work.  I am looking for something within my field to do this, since I think if my clients see me working at McDonald's it may affect my credibility.

Truth is, the bills are not getting paid.  I am getting notices from various medical providers threatening to turn the bills over to collections.  I did my taxes this weekend hoping I would get a substantial refund and this was not the case.

In summary, I am stressed out!  I am getting burned out at my job and now know I need to get another job to make ends meet.  I get angry with people who have taken money from me and still sleep at night!  A couple of weeks ago I learned that Brian closed my line of credit and overdraft protection account.  I was the primary account holder and was told he could not do this.  I will be changing banks soon, as soon as I have time!  When I work 8-7 M-Thursday and Fridays as well, there is not much time to call my creditors or stop in and close my accounts.  The line of credit could have helped with medical bills.  And then I get angry with the residual people who "don't have a problem with him" and continue to have their profile photos adorning his facebook page as friends and "like" his relationship with his new girlfriend living in the home I raised my children in.

Also stressful is that after working this week Monday -Thursday 8-7, I have to go down to MPLS for another procedure to burn my esophagus.  I am more anxious about this after having the last procedure and being unable to eat for 2 weeks.  I will stay with Renee overnight and head back to Brainerd on Saturday to pack for my 4-day training.

One big factor determining the success of our clients is their support system.  When I apply that to myself, I realize that I may have made a big mistake in moving to Brainerd.  I moved away from friends and family that were my support system.  I have a good number of friends here, but they are in different places in their lives, busy with families, children, schools, etc.

There is also the adage that you can't go back.  In several ways I found the truth of this statement when I went back for Easter.  The best part was that Mom remembered me.  The drive down is long and tiring.  It is about 7 and 1/2 hours to get to Sioux City.  I have difficulty with my "excessive daytime sleepiness" a.k.a narcolepsy and fight falling asleep anyway, but driving makes this worse.  I just can't do it.  When staying at Becky's I realized that I likely placed a wedge between myself and her family over Thanksgiving when I expressed my concern about the amount of stress and work she does with little help from Jeff or Hannah.  Jeff was either sleeping or gone the entire time I was there.  I get it.  Shut up Ande.  Don't worry about Becky and the burden she has that will take its toll on her.  I admire her, but I also realize her family has it easy by not helping her with even household tasks.  And I know she can't keep this up without it affecting her.  I also was mistaken in thinking my return might be special enough to prompt a visit by my brother and his family.  I could not take Monday off so I could be with my family on Easter Sunday because I have to meet productivity this month even with 4 days of training!  It is one day of driving each way. I have Fridays off, but then I don't get paperwork done and fall further behind if I am gone.

I Skype with Dad every Sunday.  This will keep us close.  Becky and I talk on the phone and that will keep us close.  I know I am the one who moved away and have accepted it is likely no one will visit me here.  I feel bad that I cannot return often.  Thanksgiving will likely be my next visit if I come then.  It is really dangerous for me to drive that long alone.   Maybe if I find someone willing to switch off driving with me I will be back more.  Right now, I have to say it is simply not likely I will return for some time.  It sounds like Mom is fading again, and perhaps it is best that I remember the her I saw on Easter.  I am so happy she held out that long.

In summation, I feel I am falling apart and running low on outlets and supports.  I realize this, too, shall pass.  I just wish it would hurry in its passing.

A Disturbing Dream

So I had a dream.  Not the MLK type.  I just wonder what Freud would have said about this one:

I was at my house in Sioux Falls collecting the remainder of my belongings.  Brian and his new girlfriend were allowing me to have whatever they did not want of my stuff - which is what happened in reality.  I was going through everything and found what was left was broken.  I was sifting tearfully through my broken and destroyed belongings and getting angry.  As I sorted, I kept seeing this large rack of cookie sheets full of pretty little cupcakes that Brian's girlfriend and her daughter were planning on eating.Brian's girlfriend would occasionally shout when I found something intact that I could not have it.  I looked around and saw salt and pepper shakers.  I waited until no one was watching me and sprinkled salt on the pretty little cupcakes.

Strange.