Well, Faithful Readers, I return after many months of silence. My big, beloved video-monster computer died back in March. I was relegated to an ancient laptop until a couple of weeks ago when a friend of a friend from church gave me this desktop. It's not much, but it's a huge step up from antiquated laptop from hell.

As my previous post suggests, my struggle with depression has not improved. The depression and PTSD keep pace with my declining health. Now it's fibromyalgia and heart disease on top of the plethora of other ailments already on the menu that require surgery and treatments that can't happen. . .because no doctors in this state except Medicaid for them.

My landlord is going to raise my rent. He's also thinking of selling this place. I will be on the street--literally--if that happens.

Food prices are soaring higher than my $79 of food stamps per month can keep up with. I've pared down all that I can and know this winter will be as cold as last since I can't afford to run my heat. I even tried to sell all my belongings/furniture/appliances in my storage, since I could no longer afford to pay that fee. The yard sale made $40 total. The ad in the paper cost $26. At least I broke even, but now I still have a lot left stored in some person's barn. I was reminded today that I still need to get rid of it, since that person doesn't want my stuff in his barn for long. Unfortunately, even trying to throw it all away at the dump isn't an option since it costs money--per pound--and that's money I don't have. Catch 22. Just like everything else in my life from which there is no escape.

I try to avoid listening to the radio news (I don't have cable, which way out here on Whidbey Island means no TV whatsoever), but it seeps in piecemeal. The run/failure of banks in California signal what I've been saying for nearly a year: a depression is on the way and those who will go the way of "Grapes of Wrath" will be those like myself, living on fixed incomes of only a few hundred dollars a month, disabled and with nowhere else to turn but our ludicrous excuse for a "government." 

The chronic nightmares have taken a brutal turn for the worst. I'm being interviewed for a sleep study this coming Thursday. I'm not optimistic. I've had chronic nightmares since I was 2-3 and suffered from Chronic Fatigue Syndrome as a result since I was 9. (The long story to short on this matter is that pedophiles need to be burned at the stake in the town square, NOT tolerated, even in prison!) I'm already on triple the normal dose of nightmare suppressant medication and it's as if I'm taking sugar pills. I get all the unpleasant side effects and no benefits.

So, with all this and so much more that cannot be put into words, I keep wondering why God forces me to wake up every day, exhausted and ill-equipped to face another miserable day. I would've ended it long ago if my fear of hell did not outweigh my desire for death.

I find myself asking that question nearly every day. The hits just keep on coming and nothing is getting better. But, here I am. . .

My health is spiraling downward and each day is becoming more of a struggle. Just don't know where all this is leading or even WHY!