Thanks to all you who understood my crazed ramblings in my last post. It is amazing - like one of you said - when you are writing out of a sick heart how it can touch others. After I posted that day, I went nuts. I don't mean that casually, I really think I had a psychotic episode. My mind felt like there were sparks going off inside of a black void and I had a sense that I was being pushed off a steep cliff, and digging in my heels to try and stop made me frantic and panicked. I even alienated the two friends I have left. Thankfully one of them has forgiven me.
I cried all day, not sobbing but just writing and doing stuff with tears running down my cheeks. All pride gone and no barriers.
To respond to a couple of questions, after I lost my house last June, I have been living on the proceeds since. I live in a small rented house - which is definitely a jewel - intending to buy it, but I am almost down to my last dollars. All I can do is take my meds and keep hope that a real estate client will come along soon.
Like Hops said (or maybe it was Leah), having hope is what keeps me going. Emily Dickinson wrote that losing hope is the worst.
"Inherited with Life -
Belief but once can be -
Annihilate a single clause
And Being's beggary."
I want to hang on - but I still need one substantial thing to happen - a good thing. Whatever form it takes.
Towrite (Kate)