I need to get over a crippling depression that has only gotten worse, lately. But I have no ideas, really, how to get over it. Butch seems to think a vacation would help, but I disagree. After the vacation, I still return here, to my husk of a life. Grendel's my suicide prevention cat; as long as he lives, so do I. No worries. Readers, I'm sorry to be such a repetitive downer lately, but I lost are than my sense of balance in the recovery process; I lost my autonomy. And, like my sense of balance, I dunno if, or how, I'll ever get it back.
a blog that is also meant to serve as a recovery journal, for this gay, Quaker, writer dealing with t.b.i., from surviving a hate crime in Sligo, Ireland, on 1.31.99.