Dragged myself from my death bed yesterday afternoon to attend a meeting with H, refugee mother, her torture and trauma counsellor and a translator.

The meeting was fine and I was able to throw in a couple of things that I think made H really look at me as though there were changes in me. Like when RM was saying she wanted to move to Perth because she wasn't happy in Canberra, I said "RM - happiness isn't external to you. Happiness is in your heart. All the things that make you unhappy will still be with you, you'll just be in another city." H looked at me, mildly amused (he's been saying the same thing to me for years)

Then she was saying she was over RFD16. She said "I've had enough. There is no respect. I can not love her anymore." and I retored "Love is a choice. You are the boss of who you love - her behaviour can't make you love her or not - you chose that."

She didn't get it, but I think H did.

I've got a friend here from Melbourne for the weekend and I'm in no shape to entertain her on the town, so H is taking her out tonight - possibly with op. That will be interesting.

In some ways I feel like we've grown further apart over the past couple of weeks with my strict adherence to the last resort. It's kind of like when I left - we both just gave up - the whole thing had died and neither of us had the energy to pick up the pieces.

My Dr said he thinks the seriousness of my illness is symptomatic of my body collapsing after a particularly stressful period that it just can't cope with anymore. Unfortunately it's not like I can just stop it and get off. Can I?

V

Never make someone a priority, who makes you an option.