I look at my future and it’s not so bright.  I don’t have a kid, fiance, boyfriend, or husband.  I have Mom, Dad, and Kathy.  I’m not close to my sister or my step sister.  And by not close I mean we don’t speak for months at at time.  My sister is married and my step sister is engaged.  The rest of my family is states away.  Many states, in some cases.  My parents (with the exception of Kathy – I’m not sure how old she is, but my step sister is 9-10 years younger than I am) are in their 60′s.  Since my father’s father is 93 and still living mostly on his own (see my post My Grandfather is Amazing) so he’ll be around for a long time, I think.  My mother on the other hand is a different story.  Diabetes and colon cancer are the legacies of her parents.  She doesn’t want life saving procedures done.  She’s not even sure she wants blood transfusions.  I know she doesn’t want to have a long life.  I’m not sure how long of a life she wants, but I know she doesn’t want a long one.  It makes me sad.  I don’t like to think about losing my parents.  I’ll be basically completely alone at that point.

I don’t want children.  I’m not good with children.  In fact young children scare me.  Not to mention that I really don’t want to pass down the problems in my genes.  Then there’s the fact that I would most likely have to go off my antidepressant if I became pregnant and that would definitely not be good.  If I survived that, you can forget about breast feeding.  As much as I’d want to, I know I can’t handle my regular life, let alone a baby and possible postpartum depression, if I’m not on antidepressants.  And yes, I do realize that this will leave no one to take care of me in my old age.  My mother (who doesn’t like children) has already pointed that out numerous times.

I also really don’t expect to find a spouse.  I’m not really sure I want to find one at this point.  People can’t handle being around me because of my depression (not to mention the fact that I really don’t tend to fit in with most of my peer group.  I never have.). It’s even worse for those who live with me.  It’s not going to change.  There’s no magic issue that I can work through that’s going to make my severe depression disappear.  I have to be medicated.  Of course, being medicated properly is important as well, but my life has been a series of everything falling apart that I don’t think people will put up with.  Not to mention that a lot of men (and yes, I know this is a stereotype) have problems understanding emotions.  My illness is emotions.  A lot of the time it’s been out of control emotions.

There are other problems with spouses.  I have bad judgement when it comes to romantic relationships.  The past two major ones (okay, that’s the past two, but who’s counting?) have ended with me totally drained – emotionally, financially, and spiritually.  My other relationship choices (with one exception) haven’t been all that great either.  I don’t trust myself to find someone.   I don’t want to go from relationship to relationship anymore.  I’m not joining dating sites, going to bars, going speed dating, or any of the other find-a-mate things.  My schedule is a mess.  I can’t go to most get-togethers. I tend to be either at work or asleep.  The people I work with do not talk to me.  I don’t fit in with their sex text, drinking lives.  *shrug*  I don’t want to.

The upshot of all of this is in a very short amount of time I will be basically be completely alone.  I’m sure I’ll interact with people on places like Facebook and LJ and occasionally see the people I knew in school and at past work places, but it’s not like that’s going to be often.  I’m a loner and though it’s not always by choice, it’s the way things are.  The way things will be.  I’ve been struggling for 20 or so years to change it.  A lot of that was desperation due to my illness, but I’m going to try not to struggle with it anymore.  What will be, will be and all that jazz.  Still, it’s not always pleasant to contemplate.  I try not to, but the worse my depression is, the worse the obsession with it gets. Also the more morbid the thoughts get.  I start thinking about how I’ll die and no one will notice for days, weeks, months.  *shrug*

Well, enough sadness.  Moving on….

Thursday we doubled one med and added another.   I really wish I would have had some more time for it to get into my system before Friday morning.   I now go into therapy expecting to be attacked therefore I’m defensive.  When I’m struggling not to cry, my tone gets sharper.  Apparently based upon this she decided that I was that way to everyone all the time.  My perceptions are out of what and a lot of the time I know it, but I can’t get past it.  Not to mention that the worse my emotional level gets the harder it is to remember it.  *shrug*  By Friday evening I was soooo much better.  I’m calm, I haven’t felt like crying since Friday morning.  I had a set back trying to get a different brand of contacts.  I was hoping to get the change at Moon, but they said I had to go to my original Wal-Mart.  So Mom and I went out to Pleasant Hills and got it done.  I didn’t end up in tears and last weekend I would.  I would also had given up and not made the effort to get it done.  I’m making plans with people.  I’m not afraid to see my friends.  I don’t feel like no one wants me.  I don’t feel like I want to die.  I don’t feel like everyone has forgotten me, and when I thought that might have been the case, I wasn’t in tears.  I’m not obsessing.  I’m not looking at Facebook and feeling absolutely lonely and miserable.  It’s like someone flipped a switch.  Or was pushing up on a dimmer switch.  I don’t know how to explain it and I’m not sure any explanation I could come up with would do it justice.  *shrug*  Sometimes it feels like I’m too different people.  It looks like unfortunately I’m one of those people who needs to be on medication.  I don’t like that, but it’s worth it to feel normal.  I hate being this way because people don’t understand.  I’m so worried about people getting the wrong impression (and I know they do) and about offending people.  There’s not much I can do about that.  I definitely feel out of control when my meds aren’t doing right.  I don’t know how this will be once the initial high wears off.  *shrug*  You just have to keep going and take it one day at a time.

Friday was rough.  I moved stuff over to Mom’s.  I left the apartment at around 4:30 pm.  I returned around 8 and got Tom to go and change the phone plans.  I did not go into the apartment.  After changing the phone plans we return.  I walked in and found the lights on.  I got angry.  No one was home so there was no reason for the lights to be on.  I went straight into the bedroom without looking around.  I don’t know why, but I wasn’t feeling very good and I was tired.  Tom said he was going out several hours later and asked me if there was anything I wanted him to do.  I didn’t get up and look.  I was working on the computer.  I said no.  I still had stuff I wanted to do and I planned to get up around midnight and spend an hour to an hour and a half cleaning and packing before I went to sleep.  When I did that Tom was not there.  The living room was a mess.  All of the things which I had not packed for him before he got home were lying around the room.  So I had to pick all of that up.  I put it on the couch.  I was furious.  I could not believe that he went out without finishing his own packing.  He had about 5 hours to do it in and there’s no way it would have taken that long.  he came home while I was doing it.  He yelled at me, telling me it was my fault because I hadn’t told him to pack his stuff.  He also said that it didn’t matter since my dad’s fiance had just said anything that wasn’t packed wasn’t going.  Excuse me, but we had to go through the living room to move stuff and move items that were covered with his stuff.  He didn’t get home until after 1 am and we had to be up early in the morning to get the truck.  Also, I didn’t know I was supposed to tell him to pack his own stuff.  I didn’t realize that it wouldn’t be obvious that the rooms and furniture had to be clear in order to do the move.  I didn’t realize that I had to tell him to do it before he left to go out and have fun.  I didn’t go and one of the reasons I told him that I couldn’t go was that I still had packing left to do.  I didn’t know I had to be his mother.

Saturday was worse.  I set my alarm late because I was so upset the night before that I messed up.  If I hadn’t called Mom we would have been late.  The guy I picked the truck up from told me I could change the drop off, but when I called she said I couldn’t since I had the truck.  Tom and I argued and he told me that if I didn’t stop yelling then he would not help with the move.  I was falling apart and had been since we had gotten the truck.  I was crying.  I told him I didn’t have a lot of control.  I cried for at least two solid hours then I finally took half a xanax.  It took about another half hour but I finally stopped crying.  I was carrying stuff out to cars when I could, but after taking the medicine I was unsteady and the fact that due to an argument with Tom I could not finish the hot dog I tried to eat for breakfast.  I was shaking and exhausted, but I kept going.  I got food for everyone who wanted it because I knew I needed to eat.  The Maracuja called when we were finishing up.  Upon finding out we were finished she offered to come over and help clean. I told her I’d call her when I got over there.  I got Tom in New Brighton and as we’re driving close to Ambridge he asks me to drop him off so he can get pizza.  Instead of going back to help me clean, he decided he wanted to get pizza.  I was completely pissed off at that point.  I left him there and went back to the apartment.  I called the Maracuja, but didn’t get her.  I left a message and started cleaning.  I cleaned the bathroom completely, I vacuumed the entire place, and started sweeping.  The Maracuja called and came over.  She helped me finish up cleaning, took me over to ENP for dinner (for which I will be eternally grateful), listened to me whine and complain (another thing for which I will be eternally grateful), and helped me finish getting stuff out to the car.  I left my key and never went back.

The next day I had was all over achy and had a fever.   Luckily, I was on vacation for the week.  I have felt horrible all week.  I’ve had cramps, especially today.  Dad worked on my car and fixed the rotors and brake pads.  I need to make an appointment for an inspection.  I went to sleep yesterday at after 5 am. I woke up in agony at just after 7 am.  I took pain killers, got Mom’s heating pad to use with mine (I had extreme pain in both front and back), and I have no idea how long it took me to finally get back to sleep.  I don’t even know when I woke up.  I had to unplug my clock to plug in the other heating pad.  When I went downstairs I discovered it was almost 4 pm.  I was in pain on and off for the rest of the day.  Still am.

There’s one more thing else that bothers me.  I have a friend who said she was planning on doing the zoo on Saturday morning.  I was thinking  of going despite the fact that it was in the morning because she’s one of my favorite people.  She decided to change it to the children’s museum.  She said she’d email me her schedule so we could make plans.  That was Monday or Tuesday.  I didn’t hear from here and it was Wednesday.  I saw her making plans with at least one other person.  I messaged her and asked if she was going to send me her schedule or if she just wanted to forget it.  She said no, that she’d send her schedule that night.  That was Wednesday.  I still haven’t received it from her.  I commented on one of her statuses and she commented back saying that she loved me for many reasons.  I have a hard time believing it.  I still haven’t heard from her. Except for that comment.

What’s wrong with me?

I have already been feeling like there’s something wrong with me. People at work do not talk to me. Not unless they have to. When I was in training, the other two trainees ignored me. Only the leads and supervisors talk to me most days. Sometimes people nod at me or will say hi as they pass me in the hall way. The van drivers talk to me more than my co-workers. I spend usually less than 15 minutes with them. I keep wondering why they don’t like me. I wonder why I’m beneath their notice.
It doesn’t stop there. My friends. My RL friends rarely talk with me. I’m on Facebook with many of them. It’s rare that they respond to anything I say. I comment on their posts and they’re basically ignored. I try to talk with people and get ignored. I ask if things are okay and I can see that they’re online, but they don’t bother answering till the next day, often when I’m asleep or at work. I try. I try to cut back on my depressive posts. It’s hard, but I really don’t say anywhere near as much as I could. There are a lot of times when I don’t say what I think about things because I don’t want to upset them. I try to interact. I was making plans. I did last weekend. I went to F Cubed. That’s hard for me considering the spiritual and emotional place I’m in right now. I expect them all to be angry with me for what I did to Tom. Especially after my appointment only two days earlier. I don’t know that they’re not. Whether or not it’s necessarily factual, I *know* I’m less important than he is. I *know* I’m less important than everyone. I *know* I don’t matter. Emotions aren’t rational. I want to be there for people, but I’m not good enough. I’m only good enough when there’s absolutely no one else.

It’s hard. My jaw hurts most of the day every day. It’s extremely hard to eat and last night it made it extremely difficult to sleep. That constant pain can be difficult. It’s draining. Only reading and listening to my audiobooks seem to block it. I also had bouts of nausea on Thursday. I’m going to have to work next Friday. That’s depressing. At least my shift doesn’t normally work on Fridays and those that do tend to work in the morning. Why, I don’t know. Of course, they don’t normally work till 230 the same morning. *shrug* I’m wearing myself out and I know it. I know I’m pulling in. I can feel it. I don’t know how to stop it. I don’t know that it matters that I do. I just keep asking myself and God what’s wrong with me?

My stomach’s not happy.  Since Wednesday I’ve been having on and off nausea, normally accompanied by sweating.  I was so sick when I got home from work Wednesday night that I just went to sleep.  I took Zofran to get through Thursday but I was still sick when I got home.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t sleep.  I was starving.  I ate a hot dog (something which actually did not turn my stomach, strangely enough), but I was still starving and had a very hard time going to sleep.  I had to go to therapy today and went grocery shopping.  I was able to eat a hot dog this morning, but not the donut I tried.  Even now, I’m fighting it.  And of course, I was so depressed after therapy that I went and had lunch at Long John Silvers.  Not something my digestive system tolerates very well now that I do not have a gall bladder.  I didn’t go out to see people, even though I wanted to.  I don’t know that I’ll go see Mom tomorrow and F Cubed…well, I just don’t know about that.  It’s more than sickness that would keep me away.

Therapy was hard.  We talked about me having to take breaks on time at work.  Someone spoke to my supervisor about me specifically so I have to now.  I don’t know why.  No one wants me around there.  Other people take their breaks at off times.  But I’m not allowed to.  People don’t talk to me, and I don’t think they ever will.  Luckily, for the most part, I can do my job with no assistance.  If I have a problem I go to a lead or a supervisor.  Or I throw the order back so I don’t have to approach anyone else.  No one says hi to me or good morning.  The van drivers talk to me more than my co-workers and I see them for approximately 5 minutes a day.  One person congratulated me on getting my yellow belt.  One.  And that’s only because she was walking by after the presentation.  It hurts.  I’ve been spending over 50 hours a week in that building, though it’s been a little less than that in the past two weeks, and no one talks to me unless they absolutely have to.  It hurts.  The few people I did talk to no longer sit with me.

My heart hurts.  People tend to only contact me when they want something.  Even my parents.  Mom called me at work last week because she needed me to figure out how she had to send her resume to someone on the computer while I was on my 15 minute break.   On a computer that I couldn’t see, on a web page that I was not familiar with.  Dad called me today because both of their cars are out of commission and they wanted me to take them to a book sale.  And get my step sister on the way over there.  Raz called tonight because the Maracuja was concerned when I didn’t show up for the presentation tonight.  I appreciate that.  I do.  I really wish I hadn’t been too sick to go.  It was on an interesting subject and I could have seen Mocha and Mango as well.  I know, I know! I expect too much.  I’m not a very good friend.  I talk about myself too much (although considering that this is *my* blog, I feel okay doing it here).  I have to make all of the effort. I have to take the initiative.  I’ve been trying.  I’ve pestered people into seeing me.  Except for the Pens game last Saturday, I’ve driven all over the place to see people.  And yes, I know that all of my friends are busy people with lives of their own and families of their own.  So, I try to suffer in silence (except on here) and realign my thinking so that it’s more in line with reality.  I post my pains and sorrows and triumphs, and try to focus on supporting and encouraging others.  Because they are the ones who matter.

The other reason my heart hurts today is that I was told I was too rough on Tom.  That I should not have been at all irritated with him asking me questions over and over that I didn’t want him to ask because things weren’t going to change and I didn’t want to think about it while I was on my break (ie how the people at work are treating me or if they are talking to me) and that I specifically asked him not to ask me.  That he listened.  Of course his way of listening was being completely silent while I’m talking so that I start feeling stupid for saying anything or feel like I’m giving a monologue or a lecture, despite the fact that I explained it to him several times.  But he was kind, caring, and did listen so he’s not a bad person.  I never said he was a bad person. But I was too rough on him.  And apparently I’m lying to myself.  It may make me a cold-hearted bitch, but I don’t really miss Tom.  I don’t.  I’m not broken hearted about this.  But M tells me that I’m lying to myself.  Another one of her gems was that the fat lady hadn’t sung on the relationship and that there was no period at the end of it.  Um, excuse me?  You think I’m going back with someone who makes me carry all the weight for the finances, all the burden in conversations going beyond the typical how is work going, who says he loves me but does nothing to show it even when I ask, who can’t remember to do anything that I ask of him that matters to me?  But hey, I’m a bitch so what’s it matter how I feel?

So now I’m hurting all over, basically.  And wondering what the hell is wrong with me.  Maybe that’s one of the reasons why I miss high school and college.  They sheer fact that I was constantly in the same place as people for often extended periods of time made me feel like I actually belonged.  At least from time to time.  But that’s gone now and I’m alone.  I’ll be staying that way, too.  I’ll fill my free hours with books and Facebook games, reading LJ post’s and Plurks.  Maybe I’ll start writing again.  And I’ll work on making that enough to make me happy.

I feel like I’m in a spiritual wasteland.  I don’t know which way to go – I feel paralyzed.  I feel empty.  I feel afraid.  I feel ashamed.  I want so much, probably too much.  Everything has fallen apart and I don’t know how to get it together again.  I know God needs to be an essential part of that, but I don’t feel like I know how to reach Him anymore.  I’m not sure He wants to be there.  I know He loves me, but He must be awfully disappointed.  Intellectually I know that there is forgiveness and the He’ll accept me back, but emotionally I feel like I have to do something to earn it.  I don’t know how to reconcile the two.  One step would be to go back to church, but again, I am afraid.  I have trouble with groups.  I never feel like I do or can fit in.  There are two churches I might go to – Church of the Savior (COTS) in Ambridge, PA and Seeds of Hope (Seeds) in Pittsburgh, PA.  I don’t feel comfortable at either of them.  COTS would be harder to go to since it is in the morning.  I don’t do mornings very well.  Knitting Mama and her son go there along with her niece, who was recently baptized there.  Seeds is more casual and has a greater sense of community, IMHO.  There are more people my age who are willing to talk to me, something I’ve never found at COTS.  However, I feel like an outsider.  I feel like I have black marks against me there.  Terry, for one.  Another would be that kids intimidate me and I don’t know how to deal with them.  Kids and youth are the main focus of a lot of Seeds ministries.  There’s also the fact that a lot of them, including all the ones I was close to, are paired up and many have kids.  Multiple kids, in some cases.  I don’t have a problem with kids; they just scare me.  I feel awkward around them and am not sure how to relate to them.  Those are some of the reasons why I don’t want them.   I guess I almost feel like I don’t belong because of that.  Also, I’m afraid the people at Seeds are angry at me for disappearing.  There are other reasons why I don’t exactly feel right going.  I don’t feel like I have the money to give.  I know I should trust Him and let go, but if there’s one thing that scares me most, it’s running out of money.  I also cannot be involved during the week.  Most church activities are in the evenings on weekdays.  I can’t do that.  I work in the evenings on 4 weekdays and recently for part of the 5th as well.  I know I need to breach my comfort zone and just go.

Of course, the things going on at work don’t help.  I really feel like I’m back in 5th grade when all the popular kids decided to hate me and the rest of them either joined in or avoided me to avoid their ire.  I feel like that’s what is going on at work.  People don’t talk to me, especially the people on my shift.  Some of the have been rude or passive aggressive and make me uncomfortable.  Someone, I don’t know who, but someone decided that they didn’t like the fact that I didn’t take my break with them and complained to my supervisor so now I have to.  It’s not like they want me around and I’m not hurting them.  My supervisor knew I did it and said nothing, so why should it bother them?  But no, someone wants to make me miserable.  And it is just me.  The other people who take their breaks late still do, as do the people who take their breaks early.  I just wanted some peace, some time away from them and it was taken away from me.  There is one person who will talk to me, who isn’t upset and doesn’t hate me for typing harder than the average person, but I only sit with her on Thursdays.  Thank the Lord I can just put on my headphones and listen to whatever is on my iPod.   It has gotten easier.  Some people have broken the wall of silence and asked little things about my wrists when I was wearing my braces and one was asking about overtime.  I talk to security on the way up to my car and Thursday night I talked with a pharmacist who was riding up with me.

I know it’s my fault.  I’m awkward.  I’m uneasy around people.  I’m used to being left out or pushed out.  I almost expect it.  I’m not outgoing.  I’m not pushy.  I don’t speak up.   I don’t grab the spotlight or insert myself into conversations. Unless I truly feel what I have to say is vital, if the opening for my snippet passes I don’t bring it up.  I’m quiet.  I think.  I’ve been told I come off as a snob.  I’m not.  A lot of times I’m scared.  I’m not comfortable around loud groups of people.  The better I think the people around me are, the less comfortable I am.  I’m too serious and too literal.  People don’t talk to me and they don’t start conversations unless they want something most of the time.  This includes my mother.  I don’t talk about me unless someone asks most of the time.  People don’t care about me and don’t want to hear about me.  This is where I talk about me the most.  I keep so much inside.

I want what I see my friends have, but I no longer think it could happen to me.  I’m not sure I can ever be a strong Christian.  I’m not sure I’ll ever belong. I’m not sure I’ll ever find someone supportive who won’t take more than he gives.  I give too much.  I’m not sure there is someone who is willing to accept me and not take advantage of it.  I don’t know that I’ll ever take that chance again.  I’m sick of starting over.  I’m tired and overwhelmed and I will stay that way for at least the rest of the year. I see no other choice.

I was actually totally off meds for almost two weeks, but between everything in my life falling apart and the depression, I decided to start taking Wellbutrin.  Unlike the last two it hasn’t (yet) made me more depressed or motion sick.  Nor has it increased my appetite.  I’m actually eating less now than I was before.  I’m thinking that once I get to Mom’s I might start the Couch to 5K program. Although, since I’ll be working at least 50 hours a week, I might not have the time or the energy.  It’s not well lit at night so I don’t know that I can run after work.  I could try doing it before work. Now that I’m not getting up at 4:30 am I have energy in the morning.  Yeah, I do a lot better on a 2pm to 12:30 am schedule.  I could do a video before work then.  Mom won’t be home so I won’t be disturbing her.

I didn’t talk to anyone on the phone between 3/27 and 4/2.  Unless you count the OT line, but that’s a recording so I don’t.  I didn’t have much interaction with people.  I did next two people and made plans for Saturday.  I worked my tail off.  I was alone, but you know what?  I wasn’t lonely.  I didn’t cry all week.  I didn’t get angry.  I didn’t argue with anyone.  I almost feel guilty, but I didn’t miss Tom.  I must be a cold bitch to feel that way.  Friday I had an appointment with Melissa.  She was shocked that I broke up with Tom.  Shocked.  When I explained she said that she was glad that I was standing up for myself.  I was thinking and this is the first time in years that I’ve done that consistently.  I’m not the person I was a year ago.  Getting rid of the over abundance of meds has made a difference.

I feel like I have to learn who I am again.  I have to find out what I like and what I want to do.  I’m actually interested in doing things.  I made plans this past weekend and saw people.  People said I was different.  I am.  I have to find out where I’m going and what I want to do.  I’ve made changes in my life recently and I think I will be making more changes.  I’m not going to put with what I have in the past.  I’m not going to continually go out of my way for people who won’t help me.  Some of the things that go to me, don’t.  Some of the things I let go by, I no longer do.  I’m going to keep going and see where this takes me.

I’ve broken up with Tom.  I haven’t really said anything about it here because I’m not sure what to say.  He stopped acting like he loved me.  I kept having to take responsibility for everything.  He broke promises to me.  We would fight daily, multiple times a day.  I don’t really think we have that much in common.  I feel like I have to do it all with little or no help.  I wasn’t happy in the relationship.  People are shocked that I broke up with him.  Sometimes I am, too.  I don’t want to be with him in that way anymore.  I’m having to train myself not to be quite so concerned, but not calling him has been rather easy.  There are a lot of things I’m not happy with him over.  I’m losing a lot by breaking up with him – my independence, my privacy, my days off.  I’ve worked on 13 of the last 14 days.  I’ve done more than 8 hours of OT during the week along with double time on Sundays.  My wrists are killing me.  The house is a mess and I actually feel like doing something about it, but I don’t have the energy.  I’m planning on working 2 hours post shift every day this week along with 5.5 hours on Friday.  Then I will be work at least 3 hours of double time each Sunday.  Hopefully, this will help with the backlog on the bills and get things straightened out financially.  I’m going to have to work around 10 hours of time and a half in for the next 6 to 8 months to make ends meet and I don’t necessarily know if that when it would end.  I have so many bills and so much responsibility and a lot of it is due to this relationship.  When will I ever learn?

Back to God, I kinda feel like He wants me to suffer.  I don’t know where or how to find the peace that everyone seems to think Christians should have.  I don’t hurt on the inside as much as I thought I would, but I feel empty.  I feel lonely and isolated.  There’s a part of me that just wants to be left alone and there’s a part of me that just wants to connect with people.  It’s hard, though. So many of my friends are moving forwards with with their lives and are such strong Christians.  I feel like such a failure next to them.  I know I’m not supposed to compare myself, but I don’t know how not to.  I’m not satisfied with me.  Heck, I’m not even sure who me is.  It’s been a long journey since last March and it has changed me.  I’m still searching for answers and I don’t know where to find them.

I’m debating moving my vacation and moving back in with Mom sooner.  Tom wants to continue on as roommates, but I don’t really think I want to do that.  I don’t want to be his convenience.  I don’t want to be taken for granted anymore, although I know Mom will do that as well, to some extent.  Of course, she’ll love me.  There aren’t clearly defined roles between Tom and me.  So much has changed and I don’t know where it’s going.  There’s so much of my life that I’ve lost, so much of myself that I’ve lost.  I want to get back to God, but I don’t exactly know how.

Remember September 11, 2001?  Did you know that the majority of the employees of Morgan Stanley got out alive?  We’re talking over 80%.  Why did they get out when so many people didn’t?  Experts say that it was due to the fact that over the past three years the gentleman in charge of security put his colleagues through a consistent and fairly rigorous series of fire drills.  The employees, especially the long time employees, knew where the exits were, where the stairs were, what it was like to go down the stairs, and where to meet after they got out of the building.  That man, who’s name I do not know, is credited with saving many lives.  Does your employer do drills?  When was the last time you had one?  Do you know the emergency plans for your company?  They should have them.  You should know them.  I encourage you to talk to the people you work for and encourage them to get this knowledge out.  It may just save your life.

It’s the first day of the new year.  Many of you have new homes, new family members, etc. Make plans. Check your escapes. Check you fire alarms.  It’s a proven fact that having some sort of plan and having practiced that plan can make the difference between life and death in a serious situation.  It’s a pain and can take time away from other things, but if you ever have to use it, it could save your life or the life of someone you love. Do you really want to deal with the possible consequences of not knowing what to do?

Have a healthy, happy, and safe new year!!