Hi again everyone, the room full of gentle souls, hurting hearts and healing begins. I really did give you the Readers Digest condensed version last night…I apologize.

Ok, I’ll begin when the police knocked on my door, after talking to them for a few minutes I realized that when the police say “we think” that means “you are”. So, they thought I needed to get some help and honestly I knew I needed it. I had shut myself away for 2 ½ YEARS…how much longer was I going to last? So, off I went for the nice ride in the back of the police car. They didn’t 5150 me, he just dropped me off at the County Psychiatric Hospital and said that if I wanted help to walk through the doors….and I did. One of the best things I have done for myself in my life. I was admitted for 3 day observation…I was skinny, lethargic, didn’t really care, I had given up. They start me on antidepressants and an anti-anxiety meds. Sounds pretty harmless to me so far. Not more than 36 hours later I am bouncing all over the place in total manic mode which totally surprised everyone, including myself. I was the perfect textbook of being bi-polar when an antidepressant is given. So now begins the trial and error of meds. I didn’t want to leave the hospital until I was sure I was stable, so I was there 10 days. I was afraid to go home and have the entire cycle start over again, so I was willing to stay there. Besides, it really wasn’t that bad…it got me talking to people again, interacting with the nurses, just moving…even if we only went to occupational therapy and put together a puzzle, at least my brain was starting to engage again. I would say that 95% of the people in there were in for drugs or alcohol problems, and were younger. It’s sad to realize that so many people have that addiction, but good to know that there is a place that is helping them. They will keep the addicts until they have another placement for them (half way house or something set up) so that they have a support group in place when they are released. Me, they weren’t quite sure what to do with me, so they sent me home.

Thank God for good neighbors who was watching my animals and spoiled them rotten, I mean, the dog even went to the groomer. I was released the beginning of June 2009, and still in manic mode (which in hindsight I’ve been in most of my life). I was always felt life more intensely than the rest of my family….hell I used to cry at the end of Lassie when she would lift her paw, I thought she was lost, so every week when the credits would run I had to go to my room so I wouldn’t see her. Hummm, that should have been a clue LOL. I started cleaning the house, which had been terribly neglected for almost 3 years, going through Michael’s things, giving things to Good Will, had a yard sale, did the scrapbooks, was just trying to make up for lost time. I was still somewhat of a recluse, since the car died, but at least I was talking to family and one or two friends on the phone. But in the back of my mind, I knew the day was coming that I would lose my home….and it did. My evection notice arrived, I was served and I had to be out by August 11th. I owned the mobile home, but I didn’t own the land it was on, so the park did what it was supposed to do.

On August 10th with no idea what was going to happen, just thought I would be on the streets and lose everything. I called my friend Bill, who I’ve know 20 plus years and told him what was going on. Not more than a half an hour later there was a knock at my door and there he was with a few friends and boxes and said “let’s start packing, you’re moving in with us”. I have no idea how we did it, but we did…80% of my stuff was either moved or put into storage. Some was given away (Michael’s tools, refrigerator, washer/dryer) and I was out of there. Bill not only took in me, but my dog and cat (and he’s not even fond of cats). It’s been crowded (a 50 year old 980 square foot house and only 1 bathroom for 3 people), but it works. I never in my life imagined that at 56 I would be homeless….or as Bill tells me, Cris, you’re not homeless, you’re just houseless right now”.

I will be forever grateful, but still not working (don’t think I can do a traditional job anymore, I don’t deal with stress like I used to) and still fighting for disability, so I literally have no income and Bill still let’s me stay. I try to earn my keep, I cook, clean, laundry and the house sits on a large piece of land, so I’ve dug up 2 huge ficus trees, planted a garden, planted 12 rose bushes, just anything I can think of to do to make it easier for him, I try to do.

Is it still hard? It is if I believe all the negative stuff I tell myself. I still have bad hours/days/weeks, but I have to fight hard to not let myself slip back into that hole. I was there long enough and it’s the saddest and loneliest place I’ve ever been. Thankfully there are more good days, I have people around me who care about me who make me laugh (how I missed laughter), who I can get a hug from if I need one and even if they don’t understand my strange moods sometimes, at least then accept them as a part of me.

If you’ve stuck in here and read my ramblings, thank you, and I guess what I am trying to say is please, please don’t give up. It may seem totally hopeless right now, but you don’t know what is going to happen in the next minute/hour/day. If you think you need help, please don’t be afraid or ashamed to ask for it like I was, you are not a “bother” to anyone, there are people who really do want to help. There is so much still to see and learn, I have a hard time realizing that I wasted 3 years just lying in bed but I guess I had to go through that to get to where I am, and I’m still waiting to see where I’m going to end up.

Oh, and Alffe, I now have FIVE grand-buddies , guess we figured out what he does well LOL, but that is another chapter that causes my heart to hurt and the guilt to rise and I have a bright red breasted hummingbird right outside my window letting me know that the feeder is empty, so no time for guilt or regrets right now.

Much love and gentle hugs to everyone.