My Therapy Pet Has Tumors

The state of American mental health care is a sorry, sick, joke. I became dissatisfied with the services I was supposed to be receiving from my mental health care provider and their general "oh well" attitudes; so exercising my rights, I chose to "fire" them, and choose another association. I have been faced with brick wall after brick wall. I now find myself unmedicated, untreated, out here flying on my own. I keep telling myself that, hell, I was basically doing everything myself with my prior service provider anyway, that I'm doing pretty damned good, and to hang in there with my head low to the grindstone concentrating on the chemo and other issues I am trying to resolve. Still, I am aware that I am in a situation of great risk. I could easily experience a severe cycling, my behavior becoming bizarre, irrational, and volatile. I could loose everything I have worked for two and a half years to achieve. Actually, now that I'm thinking about it, it has really already happened to a certain extent. I really can't remember a lot of what happened during the last of November and a lot of December. I vaguely remember some of it. Man, I don't even want to go there right now...

I apologize for my mood and tone, but they mirror the current weather and my gloomy prospects for the near future. Outside my windows I see only a gray seattle-like day in a movie about an old grunge band. I'm actually listening to that kind of music as I write, knowing it doesn't help my dismal thoughts, but unable to help myself. It's the only thing that fits. Now, I've lost my train of thought and I guess maybe I might not have had one at all. Enjoy life...