Good Help is Hard to Find

I’ve been seeing a psychiatrist for most of my life, for various reasons. I’m autistic, with the common comorbid conditions of anxiety, OCD, and ADHD. I saw a number of psychologists and social workers before being referred at the tender age of about 8, to the doctor I still see now. His office is over an hour and a half away from where I live. Good help is hard to find.

When my head cracked open, I asked him about it. He looked over his glasses (as he is wont to do) and asked me a couple of vague questions, before simply shrugging at me and telling me that what I was experiencing was “within the range of normal.” You see, he told me, “mystical experiences are part of the human condition.” He told me that he’d had such experiences himself.

Of course, this was the same doctor who would excitedly ask for a reading when he saw my Tarot cards. Good help is hard to find, but it’s worth searching for.

Quercus Montana

There is a tree on the corner of the yard at my family home. It’s an oak tree of the species Quercus montana. The Chestnut Oak is uncommon here, as we are at the edge of its normal range.

This particular oak tree is very grand, at least in my eyes. The trunk is short and stout, but the canopy sprawls upward and outward, embracing the roof of my childhood home. In the summer, the leaves seem to make the very air itself green.

I don’t know how old this tree is, or how long it’s been in my parents’ yard, but I know that it is a very special tree. It has weathered countless ice storms and thunderstorms, and bolts of lightning which would have taken down lesser trees.

Not OK

I keep telling myself that it will all be OK. In fact, it’s a phrase that’s repeating in my head as a mantra. It’s going to be OK. But I know that’s a lie I’m telling myself, and it’s a very self-serving one. Things are not OK. They have never been OK.

The US is the same as it’s always been. It’s just all out in the open now.

I’m white and affluent. Those privileges count for a great deal, especially in the rural South where I live. My family is locally prominent (actually this is the reason my blog is anonymous). There’s so much that I’ve never had to deal with, and so much I’m probably not going to have to deal with, compared to my friends.

I’m perfectly safe where I am, but I don’t feel that I can in good conscience remain “where I am” for the next few years. My friends are not safe, and I’m scared shitless for them. It’s not OK.

Familiar Pains

So I was window-shopping for my spoiled dolls, I mean, my helpful familiars when I come across an adorable pair of fairywings from Bambicrony. Joren screamed in my ear that she had to have them.

I looked at the promo pictures. Yes, they would be sooo cute on her. I put a pair in the e-cart. $37, which is a reasonable price in the BJD world. Shipping? EMS only. Calculate shipping…(Yaaaay, Joren’s gonna be soooooooooo cute!!!)

YOU WANT HOW MUCH FOR SHIPPING???

The total cost ended up at $62.