Well, it let me sign in one last time, without getting the 'you have entered an email that does not exist' message. So I am referring you to:
MY NEW BLOG!!
This blog will remain (I hope) as the archive of my older posts. Hope you'll visit me on my new one!
May
Sunday, October 07, 2007
Saturday, October 06, 2007
I forgot to say...
...that if I can, I'll come here one more time and tell you the address of the new blog. I'll also add it to my signature line in my emails, and post it on my various sites and lists, including my MyArtProfile page (bookmark it, the pages are fun to browse). Hope I'll see you again!
May
. . .
May
. . .
SETTING UP A NEW BLOG!
. . .
Well...first Yahoo killed my mayterry @ sbcglobal.net address. I had to still sign in to the Google account that managed this blog with that address, however.
No problemo, right? (Somehow I have this feeling that that's not correct in Spanish. You get the idea, though...)
Yes. Problem. For a couple of weeks I use my old email address to sign in. Then this evening I try to sign in so I can post to this account, and I get this error message: "You have entered an email that does not exist". So I fooled around for about an hour and a half, and finally--somehow, I'm not sure how--got to my Blogger dashboard, whence one posts and makes other additions, deletions, and changes. I have the feeling that it's very iffy that I'll be able to access this blog for long.
I sent an email to Blogger support, and it was supposed to be copied to my new, functioning gmail address, which is msmayterry@gmail.com, and so far it hasn't shown up. So this blog may remain an archive for my past posts.
You'd think this would be a known bug, wouldn't you? But I couldn't find mention of it anywhere on Blogger's or Google's help pages, and I'm not going to waste another evening. So if by tomorrow I don't have a satisfactory answer to my question, I'll be working on a shiny new blog!
May
. . .
Well...first Yahoo killed my mayterry @ sbcglobal.net address. I had to still sign in to the Google account that managed this blog with that address, however.
No problemo, right? (Somehow I have this feeling that that's not correct in Spanish. You get the idea, though...)
Yes. Problem. For a couple of weeks I use my old email address to sign in. Then this evening I try to sign in so I can post to this account, and I get this error message: "You have entered an email that does not exist". So I fooled around for about an hour and a half, and finally--somehow, I'm not sure how--got to my Blogger dashboard, whence one posts and makes other additions, deletions, and changes. I have the feeling that it's very iffy that I'll be able to access this blog for long.
I sent an email to Blogger support, and it was supposed to be copied to my new, functioning gmail address, which is msmayterry@gmail.com, and so far it hasn't shown up. So this blog may remain an archive for my past posts.
You'd think this would be a known bug, wouldn't you? But I couldn't find mention of it anywhere on Blogger's or Google's help pages, and I'm not going to waste another evening. So if by tomorrow I don't have a satisfactory answer to my question, I'll be working on a shiny new blog!
May
. . .
Thursday, October 04, 2007
It's not a question, but a lesson learned in time...
Blowup with my daughter at the psych hospital tonight. This may be the last time I ever see her.
Today was her 30th birthday.
. . .
Saturday, September 29, 2007
And on and on...
White BaneberryWell, I've visited my daughter at the psychiatric hospital every evening, and it's hard to tell how she's doing. I know she's suffering, but she's not the only one who is bewildered at what is going on right now.
She's on Cymbalta, which is a serotonin and norepinephrine reuptake inhibitor similar to Effexor. She finds it activating, which makes sense. The patients are awakened at 6:00 a.m., so I guess her nocturnal schedule got turned around real fast. She has been talking about signing herself out of the hospital. I hope she doesn't.
Meanwhile, I take pictures, and notice the pain in my midsection. I need to let go.
Drift. . .
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
I think I can talk about this tonight...
. . .
Several days ago (I've really lost track of time), my daughter, who had recently sent me a very negative, shall we say, email about our relationship, suddenly gave me a call. She was very upset, and was asking all kinds of questions about my health, and had I been feeling ill or in pain, and made me promise not to drive that night. (It was late, so that was easy.)
This continued for a day or two, and I also spoke with her father, who had had similar calls from her. She was disoriented and her speech wasn't making much sense.
Then she disappeared. She didn't call me when she said she would, and the next day her father went to meet her, as they had planned, and she wasn't there. Just before the 24 hours were up that are required to file a missing persons report, her father found her at the local hospital's emergency room. She had been treated roughly by the police (jerks, I hate them), then taken by ambulance to the hospital. Monday evening, she was finally admitted to a psychiatric hospital.
I couldn't visit that night, but I went last night and tonight. The psychiatrist has suggested an antipsychotic, but she doesn't want one. She may be willing to take an antidepressant, which she definitely needs.
And so it goes, as someone once said. Despite pain and fear and loss, the asters continue to bloom. I, for one, accept it and am grateful.
Namaste,
May
. . .
Several days ago (I've really lost track of time), my daughter, who had recently sent me a very negative, shall we say, email about our relationship, suddenly gave me a call. She was very upset, and was asking all kinds of questions about my health, and had I been feeling ill or in pain, and made me promise not to drive that night. (It was late, so that was easy.)
This continued for a day or two, and I also spoke with her father, who had had similar calls from her. She was disoriented and her speech wasn't making much sense.
Then she disappeared. She didn't call me when she said she would, and the next day her father went to meet her, as they had planned, and she wasn't there. Just before the 24 hours were up that are required to file a missing persons report, her father found her at the local hospital's emergency room. She had been treated roughly by the police (jerks, I hate them), then taken by ambulance to the hospital. Monday evening, she was finally admitted to a psychiatric hospital.
I couldn't visit that night, but I went last night and tonight. The psychiatrist has suggested an antipsychotic, but she doesn't want one. She may be willing to take an antidepressant, which she definitely needs.
And so it goes, as someone once said. Despite pain and fear and loss, the asters continue to bloom. I, for one, accept it and am grateful.
Namaste,
May
. . .
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