My mother made me watch a motivational video today.  "You Created It."

Jesus.  WASP-itty WASP-WASP.  Something about being the child of an educator.  It makes for a...different...experience.

My brother cleared my stuff out of my house this weekend.  He said it spooked him.  Everything was as I left it, as if I'd only stepped out for a minute. 

He wanted to call and make sure I was still alive.   Apparently the dog kept coming down and sniffing around to see if I was there, and sulking because I was not.  He gave him an old blanket of mine.

(that has seen SO much sex...it used to be my brothers when he was an infant, then mine when I was an infant.  I rediscovered it in college, and kept it ever since, even though eventually it was in tatters.  The whole thing was sufficiently creepy for me to hold on to it on that basis alone.)

He said, "Here you go, Brixton.  Here's something that smells like Argentum," 

Nice to know the dog misses me.  I miss him.

Fuck, I only planned on being here a week.  Now, this has evolved into something almost unmanageable. 

And now the doctor has issued an ultimatum of a sort.  I have to call tomorrow, and if I have not improved, she wishes to hospitalize me.

I am feeling better, in ways, in short goals and victories every day.

And I will never, ever be hospitalized for this.  The pain they would inflict upon me would be my undoing.    I would rather die.

I am getting better.  The outside thought is anxiety that the doctor may be right, and this may be the way, or rather the only way.  But I cast that aside, as there are many ways to reach a summit, and I have never really feared death anyway.  We all die.  Why fear what you cannot change, cannot avoid.   Why let that limit your life.  There is nothing that can disrupt the soul, except maybe that soul itself.  Death is nothing but more of the flawed impermanent physical. 

There are truths in Eastern Philosophy that the West just cannot handle en masse, despite the fact that Eastern Philosophy is largely drawn from ancient Greecian Theory, and thus, in a round about way, Western.

The ultimatum had disturbed my faith in myself, and my recovery.  But I am doing better today, and hope, in a least some way, to do better tomorrow.

I just wish people would stop fucking with me.  Motivational Videos?  Hospitialization?

What the fuck?

Addendum:

It is now the next day, and I have called  frau doktor.  I explained that perhaps there was a miscommunication, and I have been improving.

She said,"Well, okay, if you think you are improving, I'll tell the doctor, and we'll call back if she has any recommendations.  We'll continue to keep tabs on you, though."

I know that sometimes my paranoia gets a little out of control, but this didn't exactly hit my ears with tintabulations.

I am improving.  Little victories every day.