April 16th, 2011


(no subject)

I talked to my brother for the first time today in about 15 years; his voice sounds almost exactly the same as I remember. I talked to his wife, too. It was a technologically challenged call, cell phone to cell phone with fritzy patches. Tomorrow we're planning to touch base on land lines.

This news article is about my mother's death. Details are sparse. I hope to know more when I can talk properly to my brother tomorrow.

I keep having breakdowns with no warning, wild gaspy tears, pain and rage and screams trying to claw out of my chest. The shelter isn't the best place to have episodes; public isn't either. So I keep taking Ativan to suppress the rawest waves of emotion. At least tomorrow morning my case manager at the shelter will be on shift; maybe I can talk to him.

Gulls today ate from my hands.

Edited to add: The dog mentioned in the article, Daisy, is doing okay. My brother's family took her in.