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I found out that my friend Wendy committed suicide. I had known her for a year. Her and I went to the Hollywood Bowl together and thrift shopping. I told her that she could have been one of my relatives because she looked like one of my Aunts. She was always giving compliments to strangers. "You are very kind" or "you look very pretty." She had a cat with diabetes.
It makes me want to reach out more. I think that the clubhouse does nothing in terms of saving lives. There was another suicide there recently. A woman by the name of Cynthia. Another person a woman named Elizabeth just jumped in front of a train. She had said that the Zyprexa didn't permit her to create her poetry. It is sad and it makes me want to get out and live.
In the past three months I have noticed more police activity in my area. Once at Starbucks there was a man a few feet away who had a gun. The police had their guns drawn. Then on Wednesday there was a woman in a P.T. Cruiser who as we passed her was sourrounded by police cars and police were out with guns drawn. She tossed something from her car window and then finally the light changed and we escaped. I was frazzled. Last summer there was an incident with police and guns drawn as I walked home from the grocery store. They had been filming a movie at the Van Nuys airport and the police didn't realize it was a movie taping. So they flew into terrorist response mode and ran liscence plates only to discover that one was stolen. The stolen truck had no link to the film; but they had a short chase and caught the guys.
I'm getting some pain pills today. Hopefully I will feel up to registering for a class tomorrow at UCLA. I'm having anxiety about it. Monday I leave for Las Vegas. Hopefully it won't be raining there. We are in a monsoon here. Today I am staying in, except for a trip to the pharmacy. Other than the pain I feel very happy. I'm very thrilled with my decision to not work at this point. I wish I had a life coach.