<div> So today's mail brought a letter from Sunderland (see last post) in which the Director was busy explaining how great they were. Sure, guy. Your pants dropped around your ankles and now you're trying to cover your butt.
Not too long before that (probably after I wrote my last post), I re-read a Letter to the Editor on our local newspaper's site from a guy who is also bipolar but was just gushing about how wonderful their services were for him. Yeah, ok, buddy, they weren't all that great with me. I don't even know anyone there anymore. One of the very-longtime secretaries seems to be gone.
As I said, I do know one of the counselors at the new place, and one of the members my support group said he'd heard great things about him (one of the physical therapists said he was his home teacher). But this guy knows my parents. I'm not sure if he'll hear me out on the years of emotional rape my mother heaped on me, not to mention years of… no, not going to repeat it right now. Not horrible, but still wrong and very confusing.
Locked to Family and Friends again. I may totally hide this after a while.