CandyApples wrote:There are some churches that will do like very low cost but I do not (done it in the past) like going there because they answer everything with a biblical answer and that does me no good at the moment, at all.
Funny story here. In Australia (long ago and far away) I got a Diploma in Community Welfare then got myself back to my home town in England and walked into this big building... It looked vaguely like a place where I might find the job that would enable me to stay in the area.
There was this presumed counsellor bloke, unsmiling behind a desk, and he listened politely while I gave my spiel. Then, still without cracking a smile: "We help a lot of people here. I have one answer for all of them: Jesus Christ."
I hadn't actually sat down because there wasn't a second chair. After one (or maybe three) beats of utter incomprehension, I said: "Jesus Christ!" then turned and walked out.
I dream of a retreat where I could go, a place where there are little cabins in the woods, nothing for miles, were there is no tv no nothing, to think and emotionally vent/let go. If you wanna run and cry and scream into the wind you can, and if you were to lose control, there was someone there who could handle that.
Closest I've got to that was Julatten https://www.resortsandlodges.com/lodgin ... treat.html where I had a (very costly) week with a dear friend. The pic is of the owners' house with gorgeous pool where stone Buddhas watch over you as you swim. Friend and I had separate cabins, enormous bed in each one and an amazing bathroom with stone basin and a sloping floor, gap at the bottom in one corner so shower water ran straight back into the earth. Louvre windows open all hours and at that time of year (November) just a sheet over you at night. Any time we showed up poolside the owner would come out with healthy snacks. Breakfast and evening meal were served in the house -- can't recall the menu but definitely nothing quietvoice would object to. A couple of women came in from the nearest town to give massages, of which friend and I had two each. The one we both chose was called Shiva Vichy, where you lay on a kind of butcher's table, channels all around it while they used hands and hoses all over you. Mmmm!
Crikey I slept well up that mountain!
to touch lightly on my mom for example (loaded loaded topic, her) ...(and what folllows)
Mine turns 90 this year and a cousin is organising a party in the nursing home. By mutual agreement I haven't been anywhere near her for nearly 40 years. My siblings will all show up: mixed feelings about each of them and awkward email contact with only one... Sorry Candy but you've stirred up every kind of good and bad stuff and here I sit bleeding all over one of your threads...
and then christmas comes and she flat out def didnt get it, and then claimed she didnt know it was the day my dad died.
Mine croaked in 2015. They were a package deal, you can't have one without the other, but he used to call me from time to time until he lost the plot. I was at that stage very far away but still in the same country, and at the end of a session playing online I would morbidly type his full name into the search bar. It came up around 2am six weeks or so after the event and as expected no one had told me. There was no one to call. Instead of going to bed I segued back to surfing, waiting for whatever might happen in my psyche. Nothing did and I had work next day so I went to bed, then not long afterwards I lost control of my pushbike while drunk and roaring down a hill I never tackled sober, landed on my head (with helmet) and bingo, acquired brain injury (ABI). I often think that should have been The End, damn Queensland's bike helmet law, but once the surgeons had pulled my face back together they sent me on my erratic Way.
Re. Christmas: December 25 1983 I showed up to do the family thing, was putting presents for everyone under the tree when Mother came and hissed at me I wish you hadn't come, you always cause so much trouble. I mostly ignored the Silly Season after that, was a journalist at the time and always volunteered to be the one who worked that day and the next for triple pay... until I married a man who does Christmas (with suitable cynicism), so I go along to all the family beanos and let me tell you they've been a prolific bunch... weird stuff if you come from a line that's so close to being extinct.
MTC for the post you actually addressed to me, but need to get ready for work now. I think you and I are very alike.