That’s what I learned today. Again. I asked for help without success from two loved ones. Oily black despair poured over my brain, which absorbed it like a sponge. A hollowness unlike hunger, more a lack of oxygen, allowed a shadowy fear to bounce from wall to wall. I craved a heart attack, massive stroke, to be shot, run over, anything to end this ages-old pain. After I found witnesses to watch me sign a simple last will and testament and left my keys with J, of course. I can’t seem to hold onto love or like for myself; I’d self-flagelate in a special cat owner purgatory if I failed to provide a loving home for my stooges.

And yet I ate lunch. I paid my state taxes–four digit number (plus $45 “service fee;” there’s a special level of hell for that company’s head honchos, too) via phone, wrote a payment plan check for my federal tax return–another four digit number, and mailed both sets of forms as I set out for Starbucks. Yes, Starbucks. Screw the boycott, though I did send them another complaint a few days ago–yes, while sitting in the damn place. I needed nice music and friendly faces.

Then because I was devoid of hope or light, I wrote the county hospital administration and the two men running for Governor and Lt. Governor about the deplorable conditions in the mental health facility (the psych ward) there and again urged them to switch to a plant-based menu. I told them I’d had enough of the denial, misinformation, lack of information or care concerning the best foods to feed physically and/or mentally ill patients. All patients, actually.

And while Marc Bekoff, whose book, Why Dogs Hump and Bees Get Depressed, I just finished reading, insists humans are innately good, empathetic beings, I disagree. 99% of Americans eat animals when a large number of them know it’s unhealthy, causes billions of animals’ unnecessary deaths, and contributes to the destruction of the planet they’re leaving their children.

I find the excuses lame and selfish, lacking a foundation of truth on which to stand. I don’t live this way for myself. I live this way for all beings, including you and your children, and our planet. Why and for whom do you live the way you do?

Lack of communication is unhealthy.

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