Like Dickens, the best of times, the worst of times. Certainly a time of transition, I feel that.

I know I am determined NOT to regress. I had a period of that last year, it wasn't pleasant. It also really didn't serve much of a purpose.

Moving forward is always a challenge. It takes a lot of effort to line up the infantry for the attack on the enemy. Right now, I'm a little frustrated, trying to find a trauma therapist. No one calls me back quickly. That is just me - I want things "now". Instant gratification and instant results. An unrealistic expectation.

Best of times - I feel like I may be able to get a handle on this - it has taken me a long time to realize that I am not getting the level of professional help I need to treat PTSD.

Worst of times - I still feel so alone in this. No one understands me, what I am going through, and at times they cut me no slack.