There is a Sufi program that I so much want to participate in that costs $3K. I could still charge it, but my credit debt has is close to my limits.

I've been really sick with severe depression and PTSD. The more stable I become, and as I benefit from others' stories and learning about these diseases, the more I realize how sick I've been. The symptoms. The cognitive disorganization. Sometimes I still feel so overwhelmed by some tasks that I feel like crying. Or feel like crying to look at what I used to be able to do, and wonder if I ever will be. Or if it even matters.

I'm starting to realize that I can't hope to find a job through the classifieds. I've got to "network" a phrase that strikes dread in my heart. I am an introvert. This doesn't mean that a person is shy. Because I'm not. I've been a reporter. But I get my nourishment from being alone. And since the depression and PTSD, I can feel overwhelmed and confused in crowded places, even a mall.

The good news, I guess, is that I can start to think about this and make plans of ways I can do this. The kinds of groups I might seek out. Start to set goals and make schedules. Yuk. But I gotta. And pray that I don't fall back down into the black pit, that I can somehow keep going and manage to do what I need to do to earn money. Because somehow I've got to pay these bills and keep a roof over my head.

I wish there were places where middle-aged women who've been discarded by society could go to live in communities. Where there might be individual rooms and community rooms too. I think they were called convents in the middle ages.

Tired now. Need to go to sleep.

No need to answer. Just need to vent.

wishful thinking: