Along time ago I decided only one person could really help me. Me. It took a long time, but I began focusing on things that change and/or produce. I grow things that either bloom or produce fruit. I care for two pets and I interact with them and find amusement and peace in watching them learn, play, even sleep. I write stories (see the correlation: things with a beginning, a middle and an end) that no one will ever read. I do these things for me alone and in them I find worth and often tranquility in what I consider a rather brutal world that lacks compassion for people with MI.