And When The Sky Opened Up: xanax addiction, fire in the grow house, puppy kidnapping

The first snowfall of this winter happened last night, and it was an omen- a catalyst for many things. Mercury ended its Scorpio retrograde and the recently unscrambled communications that had been waiting for interpretation claimed several casualties. I deleted my blog after more than four years, generally just exhausted at the emotional upkeep for not quite enough benefit to justify continued participation. Lavi generally has rough winters- she's a summertime night party kitty collector. She met with a counselor she trusted who advised her to go to the hospital. We went with her to check in, they took our bags and patted us down. I just got a new anxiety script that I would have liked to keep on me in this high stress situation but of course that's out of the question, this is a closed, controlled environment. The waiting room TV plated KDKA news, which seemed to center around testing and comparing As Seen On TV hair curlers. Other than that though, the local news worth sharing included the news that taking more than 4 Xanax a day can lead to dependency and withdrawal; a fire in a California weed grow house; and a man who robbed a pet store and took three puppies. Vending machines but they take all your change. Wrong names on name tags and the acrid lingering scents of nicotine and adrenaline. Lavi is in-patient, I keep looking at my phone. Alexis had a seizure last night and we're about to take her to the hospital. We spent the day sorting some of her affairs and I got my organizing meeting covered for tomorrow. She wants to be kept. Have you ever seen the episode of the Twilight Zone called "And When The Sky Was Opened" about three pilots who survive a plane crash and then disappear from everyone's memories and on very little sleep and a hotplate of boiling neurons I'm not so sure... that this isn't about me and the besties who I may not see for a while. They want me to believe I should trust but they haven't given me any options so what agency in their is a decision between one thing. There were things that had been spied in premonitions- the midwestern housewives chain smoking over casseroles, dried flowers and Jim Beam, Fiddler on the Roof and Evida, Satanic sermons and queer cuties- and I want to believe those things made us comfortable, and that's why we spiraled out of control, suicidal and delusional and ruined by too many drugs. That's what comfortable crazies do. That's what my professor said, the one who made the puzzle with the winner who can figure out what to do in an impossible situation. Trust that this is not a decision between one thing. Trust in another thing. If you weren't crazy when you got here...