I'm not sure quite how to express how much your posts mean to me. I re-read them over and over for the warmth, comfort and chuckles they provide.

Yesterday was particularly difficult. My T squeezed me in between clients for an emergency session. I think she realized I either see her or become friends with a light pole at 80 mph. If nothing else her canned phrases straight from psychology 101 served as a distraction.

I don't seem to be able to gain any pleasure (I'm not sure that is the right word) from life. The struggle to make it through even just one more day so difficult.

I'm not sure how or why. I don't know when. But at some point death moved from being feared and final to welcomed peace and release.

I'm a 19th century person, in a 20th century body, living in a 21st century world. Like the one guy in the marching band who is on his left foot when everyone else is on their right. Out of step with those around me. Unable to cope.

No Crayn0, I will not adopt you.