Dear Blondie --

I'm just.....frickin' miserable. Just plain ol' wouldn't-get-out-of-bed-if-I-didn't-think-I'd-get-fired-from-my-job kinda thing.

I don't think you get it -- you see it as a reflection of your attunement or competence when I tell you that's how I feel although I almost never show it in session.

I'm gonna try even harder to eat better, sleep better, exercise and meditate and all that -- just so I can say I'm doing my damnedest best and not wallowing in misery.

But, nothing's helping.

And, please don't point out again that it's all related to my usual call home next week.

I'm back to wanting to off myself and I feel like you're a plastic life raft floating somewhere in some choppy ocean to the point that I can only imagine your existence.

I want to cancel all my upcoming appointments and for the first time, it won't be because I'm angry at you. But, because, it all feels so hopeless. Like gawdawfully so.

- AY