Nice idea, (((((SS))))))). How long a sit do you envision? Once a week sounds good. I'm skipping the sangha downtown tonight, fearing a repeat of last Sunday's extreme restlessness while there. A cybersangha. I love it.

SS, in talking about my swinging between feeling totally disabled, and in better moments, thinking that I have more control than I do, I certainly didn't mean in the sense of scamming anyone, or playing victim. It's genuinely confusing to me, when I start thinking that, if our thoughts and expectations create our reality, as so philosophies including Buddhism espouse, then wouldn't enough right thinking change my life? Perhaps, it's that the production of negative thoughts is so great, that it takes so much stamina to keep up and counter them. Maybe this is all or none, black/white thinking. Maybe the truth lies somewhere in between. Maybe, yes, there's an illness or predisposition toward depression and anxiety, AND yes, I make it much worse through my fearful reaction to my symptoms. Maybe it's just another way to beat myself up, by saying that if only I'd really practice affirmations/visualizations/meditation/muscle relaxation/better diet, etc. etc., then my life would vastly improve.

I was disturbed earlier today to think about how what I envisioned for myself (in my fearful, depressed states) decades ago, included poverty, remaining lonely and single, and living in a home in neglect and disrepair. It is exactly what I created.

Lately, in this depressed, distorted state, I've begun experiencing more old resentments bubbling up again. Getting triggered by a recent phone conversation with my aunt (the conversation was neutral; it just stirred feelings about family), it brought me back to my mom, who was so unpleasant, and blaming others, was also helped and financially taken care of by my aunt and her son, both successful people. And how my abusive drug addict brother met a rich woman and never worked again. Neither them nor any relatives bother themselves with me or offer financial or other help. I keep wondering why I was so unlucky as to never meet a man to love and be loved by. I made some efforts, but my emotional problems sabotaged me again and again. I read here about some lucky women and their "saints" of a husband, who love them despite their illness.

I'm fully aware that I'm being just what I disliked in my mother, a victim, feeling envy of the support and help and love that others have. I know that my heart was not open enough, that fear closed it, and that there is no one to blame. I know that envy and resentment is (as one teacher said) like a hot coal that you hold in your hand, intending to throw at someone, but it's you that gets burned. I know that I must keep trying to release it. It's toxic, and bars the way to any healing.

It's just hard. I've tried through it all, to be a kind person, to not "take hostages", to see my part, make amends where necessary. Life isn't fair. Mean people get rewarded a lot. This life seems to intend that I take care of myself without concrete hands-on help. I don't want to sound ungrateful or minimize the importance of emotional support from wonderful friends like you both, and others who've lent an ear IRL. I just wish I had someone to really get involved IRL. End of rant. I know that I need to start practicing "right speech", to focus more on solutions than on problems, which only grow the more I feed and water them.