My kids and I had a truly relaxing evening at my sister and her boyfriend's. I was able to walk in and put my purse on the counter. I did not have to worry about anyone rooting through it or taking things from it. The boys and I got there before my sister got home from the clinic and her boyfriend served us spaghetti, good carb food. I was able to eat a small bowl, but have not eaten other than that and last night for three days.
I'm hoping tonight I can eat eggs and toast.

I am a spiritual person. There are times where my hands come together in front of my face toward the sky, and I simply feel united with Source. This happens when I am most deeply sad, it happens outside of my awareness, I have been relying upon it the last few hours.
This is the one and best vehicle of being I have tonight. My tears are flowing, it is all quiet finally.

She threw holy fits. She tried to manipulate me first. Sweety, I am the last person to do med seeking shit with. I work with a population that sees my staff psychiatrist. I am wise to every game a person could play to get opiates, narcotics, benzodiaizopines, etc. Honey, don't don't try this shit with me. But she did, and my husband is not as savvy as me, but becoming so. I had told him not to entrust her with the percosett rx, but he did. So lil miss was happily stoned for a number of days. She pulled every manner of shit to get a refill. No, no, honey, uh, uh.

I was reassured by the moderator that if I include language warnings to my blogs that would really help. But I panicked and deleted my last two blogs, even before I read the message. I am torn. I do not want to offend. I do want to express myself without inhibition. I crack myself up sometimes. I think on occasion I give a few folks here a chuckle. But not everyone.