Ok, first of all, I've discovered the most adorable game on Facebook called Ravenwood Fair, and it's kept me from being very productive the past couple of days, LOL. I guess it's just as well because work is SLOW AS FUCK.
The good news from today is that my newly-redesigned website hit page one of Google for one variation of its searched-10,000-times-a-month keyword. Still on page two for the other variation of it, but I'm working on it.
SEO = my addiction
Ok, my former boss (who's now the marketing manager at the company she sold out to--I think we've discussed that before) spent, like, an hour IM-ing me today. She has a shit ton of problems, some of which are related to her cocaine addiction, some of which are deeper-rooted than that. And I feel *really* bad for her. I mean, she threw away a multi-million dollar business, got her house foreclosed on, and had lots of other bad shit happen because of the white powder.
Yes, theoretically, it's all her fault. She definitely should've known better. But I can't stand to see people hurting. Especially not over ONE weak moment in their lives. Even over several weak moments. I know as well as anybody how those weak moments will build up and build up and build up until the whole mess has snowballed out of your control.
Supposedly, she's clean now. I don't know if I buy it or not, but I'm not going to doubt her word unless I have a reason to. I *do* know she spent some time in rehab.
She was talking tonight about how overwhelming her life is, how it makes her want to go back and get fucked up all over again. I kept talking to her, in hopes of keeping her ass at home, until she finally called up her sober partner. Or so she said. I sincerely hope she did.
I feel like I fail people when I can't help them. I want to help her so badly, but there's only so much I can do, what with her being there and me being here. Also, I'm not an addiction counselor, though I know better than most what feeling lost and hopeless will lead to.
I remember standing on that edge. I remember it well. I fully believe from the bottom of my heart that Lamictal--Wellbutrin, too, probably--saved my life. I'd be dead now if I hadn't gotten help. Not through an addiction or anything. But I'd have either offed myself, put myself in a position so that it basically ending up being suicide-by-proxy, or would've just collapsed from sheer exhaustion. The human body can only run on that kind of terrified, frantic "high" ("high" is in quotes because there was nothing good about it, as the word might otherwise imply) for so long before it shuts down. Or the heart explodes. Either one.
I never feel like I can do enough for people. I also feel like I attract some truly fucked up people to me. I've been seriously thinking about going back to school, not just to finish the M.A., but perhaps for an M.S. in counseling. My friend K. and I have both been talking about it. She's got her M.S. in the behavioral analysis part of psych, so it definitely makes sense for her.
We've both talked about being therapists for kinky people--those into BDSM, poly people, etc. Basically anyone outside the accepted heterosexual, monogamous, vanilla "norm." It's part of the reason neither of US want to do therapy, despite the fact that we've both been diagnosed as bipolar and both of us suspect that we've both got underlying personality disorders as well. There are other people out there like us who NEED help, but don't feel comfortable seeking it in conventional venues.
Yes, I realize there's a kink-friendly professionals list. I also know that the closest one's in Atlanta. Not doing anyone in this section of the country a whole lot of good. They're also not a lot of help for poor people who have to pay out of pocket. I'd love to offer a sliding scale for the people who needed it. Also, a lot of the ones who do it now in the general vicinity concentrate on things like depression and "adjustment issues," whatever the fuck that means. There aren't many who specifically work with the kinky outcasts of the mental health world--your bipolars and your personality disorders and your schizophrenics.
It's sad.
The other option that I'm looking into exploring is brushing up on my pitiful Spanish and trying to see about teaching adult ESL (English as a second language) classes. I don't think they really have them in this neck of the woods, but I don't plan on living here forever, either. They're all school-based programs for kids. No. Just...no. I hate kids. I'd hate them even more if I had teach them. Plus, I want to help people who WANT to be helped, and if adults showed up to an English class on their own accord, they obviously want to learn, unlike bratty, obnoxious children who are only there because they "have" to go.
Wow, that ended up going on a tangent I didn't mean for it to go on, LOL. There's more I want to say on a completely different subject, but I think I'm going to put it in another post.
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