I have $24 in my bank account, and I start work in one month. Work, unfortunately and fortunately, is in San Bernardino, California. I have never been there. The story, I guess, will be getting from here to the desert on $24, and then the details.
I love him more than anything else in the world, but if some one gave me five thousand dollars, I’d run away without him.
I am 34 years old, I have severe anxiety, I feel like my world has fallen down around me, I am an artist and I can’t sell anything, I am in a war within myself, I feel like my soul is being ripped into two and I can’t find help, I make barely enough money for my wife and I to get by and that is too much to qualify for state health insurance, so what do I do? am I damned to this existence until I die?
My therapist, who I had been seeing for ten years, borrowed three thousand dollars from me and disappeared for two months. When I heard from him again, he said he’s broke, changing careers, and will pay me back when he can. His colleague’s suggest I need a new therapist to get over the old one. I guess he is doing his best, but I’m having trouble making sense of the whole situation.