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04 May 2011 @ 02:43 pm
 
My grandfather died, my mother's father. My mom's death hit him hard in his weakened state; his health had been failing for the last few years since my grandmother's death.

My sister-in-law called with the news. I'm gathering that she's the practical, detail oriented "better half"--I still have only had a few brief conversations with my brother. We're both amiable; it just hasn't worked out yet. I last talked to him when I was half-prone in the ER. Since then I've been recovering from the sinus infection. I'm really tired. Tonight is my last night in the crisis respite program bed. Tomorrow I need to have an alternative, or else see about staying in the shelter on a day-to-day basis. Day-to-day, shelter living is a much more complicated matter. Each service is ad hoc and a la carte, so to speak. You show up at a certain time of day to try and reserve a bed; you show up during another window of time to pick up mail or take a shower; etc. Locker assignments are harder to get than bed assignments--you put your name on a list, show up at a certain time in the middle of the day, and hope that one opens up. If not, show up the same time tomorrow. Until you get one, you carry your stuff with you. You can't leave it anywhere--they do sweeps to collect unattended items, and of course it could simply be stolen.

I'm not sure how well this system will work out for me. I do have enough money set aside now--people's gifts--that I could probably rent a motel room week to week. But that as much as any other option worries me. I don't want to be isolated in a seedy room somewhere off Route 99, marking time while I wait for a place to open up in the recovery program I've been accepted to. I'd be alone and that's not good for me right now.

I'm in a weird emotional space while hanging in a physical limbo. Everything is an incremental step though. I think I'm moving forward along some chosen but unknown path.

I haven't been reading people's responses here in LiveJournal. I know that's a terrible thing to admit, but I'm so afraid that someone will offer tangible help of a room or something, and every additional choice seems to only paralyze me further. And I don't feel like I'm really here. I feel absent, submerged, asleep at the wheel. I can't call up that true and lucid self that I felt wake up for a few days last week during my feverish period. The magical sinus infection, I should call it.

I'm inching forward...I think? ...I hope? ...I something.
 
 
Laura Shapirolaurashapiro on May 4th, 2011 10:35 pm (UTC)
Still thinking of you. I hope you find an alternative you can live with.
Trepkos: Arthur and Kai eyefucktrepkos on May 4th, 2011 10:50 pm (UTC)
Well, if I was in Seattle, you wouldn't have a choice.
I'd be down there, pick you up and take you home with me.
But - as my Spousal Overunit pointed out - that's called kidnapping!
Lucy: Boot and Maskcereta on May 4th, 2011 10:51 pm (UTC)
Thinking of you.
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Kasskassrachel on May 5th, 2011 01:00 am (UTC)
Oh, my dear, I am so sorry about your grandfather. So sorry for your continuing losses.

Don't worry about the responses. You'll read them when you're feeling up to it. They'll be there whenever you are. :-)

*hugs from afar*

(I would offer you a room, but I am on the wrong coast! alas.)
flaming museflaming_muse on May 5th, 2011 02:00 am (UTC)
You may not be reading our responses at the moment, but we're still here for you and thinking of you.
All the letters I can write: Elmer Kittywendelah1 on May 5th, 2011 02:41 am (UTC)
I am so sorry for your losses. I hope something acceptable opens up soon to shelter you.
Vera: trinacopracat on May 5th, 2011 08:54 am (UTC)
Thinking of you and wishing you the best.
Sarapanisdead on May 5th, 2011 11:51 am (UTC)
Still thinking of you.
tabaquitabaqui on May 5th, 2011 02:16 pm (UTC)
I'm so very sorry.
I hope that you start to feel more a part of yourself again soon.
*still listening*
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witlingwitling on May 9th, 2011 05:47 am (UTC)
Still here, still reading, still thinking about you. No need to answer. It's just good to read your words.