But it's the only way out I can see.
First off, I have to be sane enough and in control enough to actually be able to go out with them. And they have to care enough about me to want to help me. And I have to believe them, and be able to spend long hours just lying in their arms and holding them. And I have to be able to trust them, and they have to be able to help me . . . and with all that stacked up, it's even worse, because unless I can help them too I'll feel bad about relying on them. (I will anyway. But that way, at least, it's bearable.)
. . . I have no idea if it's possible. Or if it will happen. I know I make wild swings - the question is, are they going generally up? Or generally down? Or getting more and more wild, until one day it hits rock-bottom and shatters?
And I don't know the answer to that one, but I don't believe I'm making progress, on average.
At the *moment* . . . I seem to be neutral-pessimistic-logical . . . but that can change.
I need to go make food.