Here and doing ok.

Sorry, but this made me smile. I sometimes wish so much that I had had some of these experiences my son has. I could understand depression or anxiety, but psychosis is completely outside of my experience, so I can't even say "I know what you're going through." 'Cause I just don't.

Anyway a couple of nights ago I dreamed I was hearing voices. I was so pleased. They weren't even full words - just syllables - actually just vowels, diphthongs - like 'ow' - like a ghost would say in a cheesy kids' show (Scooby Doo?). I was so pathetically pleased. I thought at least it was a start, and maybe something better would develop later. Then I woke up and thought, "Well, shoot. Back to square one."

Last night I actually had a dream I remember. It involved 1) an apartment I shared with four other women (one of whom was murdered and a second one was suspected of the murder), 2) washing tons and tons of laundry, and 3) lots of yellow objects.

Hope you sleep better tonight, icky.