After vomiting up so much fear and anger on these pages recently, I think I feel okay enough that Sunday seems like it might be better. I even dreamed that my son was released from prison.

I have been dealing with a torrent of things bubbling up into my consciousness and it has been very difficult to handle. Too many things from too many places. It's been a free for all in here. There was something else even tonight. Luckily, it was nothing that included anything 'new' this time. It was the grandparents' living room again. The fear was still there, but I think I handled that one well enough. It's funny how I was able to keep my house clean even while I simultaneously had a UTI, injured muscles, and the freakin' swine flu. You'd think a combination like that with the related anxiety would have rendered me nearly useless. Not so. The stuff that leaked out of my unconscious afterward was enough to do that to me, though. Thankfully, my house is not a total mess, but it does need attention. I'm thinking I might be well enough to tend to it now, even if I get a slow start. We'll see. I really hope to get started. I just want to be okay.

Maybe (one last pot shot?)... maybe I will take ONE of the things that has been bothering me and move it into a storage unit. Yes, I think I will shove the therapist into a storage unit or some other 'container'. I wonder where I should put him? Maybe stuff him into a locker at the YMCA or something? Sounds good. Perfect, actually. Then he would know how it feels to be separate, confined and isolated just because nobody feels like listening to him. It feels like justice to me.

(And for any of you who have sent me a recent email, I'm not ignoring it. I just have difficulty answering sometimes when I'm all messed up.)



And I just had to come back in here and add this video. In conjunction with the therapist's confinement, it does wonders for my warped (but delightful) sense of humor.