So Jose, my 50 year old Cuban therapist has actually become my therapist and my sisters' therapist and my aunt's therapist... mostly because he made the mistake of giving me his cell phone number and the couple of times I have called for help (get it- called for help?) HE ACTUALLY ANSWERED! He has saved my butt a lot lately and led me to make really healthy decisions when I think that I wouldn't have otherwise. Thus I think that everyone should add getting a therapist to their to-do list.
Good old Mom is now in a psychiatric ward after the desk clerk called 911 when Mom overdosed in her motel room; Jose and I decided that it is best if I step away completely for awhile. It has become much like watching the news; really bad things are happening right in front of me and I have absolutely zero bearing on their outcome so I have decided to change the channel and turn Jon & Kate plus 8 back on. (Best show ever by the way, it's like crack but legal and in cute kids clothes.)