Another tenant showed me her diningroom table and chair set. It is beautiful. It is a dark wood with four high back chairs and two leafs! She doesn’t want to trade her table for my glass table b/c she is really looking for something smaller and square, whereas my table is a hexagon glass-top table. In addition, it does not come w/ the chairs that went with it. She may sell me her table, but I am not trading coffee tables unless she offers to sell me her dining set. She has a small wooden circular coffeetable. Mine is a long wooden coffee table with a shelf underneath. She is very interested in my coffeetable, so we will see what develops with all of this. I have always, always wanted a beautiful dining set. I had one when I lived in a house, but I will not go into that story, not right now.
I get tired of being alone. Bear and I talk on the phone several times per day, and I am still grateful to have Bear in my life. I just.....I don’t. My life lacks something. Something is missing. I wish that I were able to work, but I cannot. I should try to volunteer down at the thrift store. I was offered a volunteer position. I don’t know what holds me back. I have physical and psychological health diagnoses, as I mentioned previously. Number one with a bullet is the Bipolar 1 Disorder. I never know how I am going to feel on any given day. Various things can trigger a flare up of Bipolar Depression. It can swing the other way, wherein I am talkative and overly optimistic and abounding with energy. I have been feeling fairly stable since my neighbor moved out. She is no longer here and cannot stalk me any longer. In retrospect, in the midst of the whole mess, I had phoned the behavioral health agency, hoping for a medication intervention. That was not the problem. I see that, now. It was a situational dilemna, causing a flare-up of Bipolar Depression. I am doing better, due to no longer having to tolerate my ex-neighbor’s behavior.
In other news, and this stems several weeks back, someone put a note under my door in an envelope. In the letter, they claimed to be a tenant in my building, wanting to borrow $300.00 for her grandson’s issue, whatever that was. They included this tenant’s phone number and some kind of bitcoin account number, which I have never heard of. They actually wanted me to go down to the end of town to some gas station and deposit the money onto their bitcoin card. I confronted the tenant. She said that she did not write the letter, but that they did in fact use her phone number, as they wanted me to text them. Why would someone do this to me? Did they actually think that I would be full enough to take $300.00 and deposit into their account, when extra money is hard for me to come by??? Did they actually think that I would risk losing $300.00? I do not know what to make of that occurrence.
Days go by, and at times I feel as if I am living in some kind of looney bin. Good or bad, I have live here 18 years and I call it my home, which it is. I love my apartment. I love the staff and I love some of the people.
Bear is probably reading. He reads in the afternoon. I would like to go down to see him one day. It has been a year. He is in a nursing home in Follansbee, West Virginia. I guess I typed a long entry. It allows me to purge. More later.