Prescott, Arizona, 3:32 MT, March 13, 2009~

Dear Journal~

I know it has been an awfully long time since I've last written; things have been hard for me.  If it's not dealing with ongoing pain or beaurocratic red tape in trying to find decent housing, health care, etc., it's trying to get ahead of my bills.  Living on less than $1,500 a month doesn't leave me much after the bills are paid for.

This is Wyndi Storm Piestala.  I haven't really been doing anything other than trying to stay out of the hospital or keep from getting sick.  I  now have high blood pressure in addition to diabetes and other problems, and sometimes I can't afford my medications, so I end up in the hospital, which only puts me further behind.  Having no insurance, trying to get my bills paid is next to impossible!

I've been trying to get to my fibromyalgia/disability meetings every month; I'm not always successful.  Thank God I have friends who watch out for me; however, I know they are in financial crisis mode, too, so I don't even bother to ask them to help me as much as I would like to.

I have been trying to keep my mind occupied, so I don't think of my precious daughter, Karla Jean, who died three and a half years ago due to kidney problems.  She was on the list to get a transplant; by the time a kidney was found, it was too late.  She died.  She was only sixteen, much too young.  I look at her picture even now, and I cry because I miss her so bad!  If she were still living today, she would have been twenty in August, on the 15th.  She would probably be working or going to a college for Native American students.

I do write some poetry (mostly about my daughter), but am too scared to share it on line.  I'm not that good of a writer (or speller), so I just keep them to myself, where only I can read them.  Maybe one day I will get brave and share them with the world, but until then, they're only for me, as a way of helping me cope.

I still write to my friend, Louisiana Sandusky, in Tennessee; however, I know she's busy with her own life, her family, so she doesn't write nearly as much as she should.  I do have her books that she sent me, so at least I have some good reading material.  I also get books from friends, and I also have some friends on MySpace as well as YouTube.  I'm not lonely, not as lonely as you might think.

I wish I could say life's gotten better for me, but it hasn't, no, not really; however, it hasn't gotten any worse either, so for that I am glad.  Mother Earth  is watching out over me, and so is Father Sky, and all of my relatives, who have gone on to the Happy Hunting Grounds in the Sky before me.  I feel like I have a million angels watching out over me, so maybe this is why I am still here; maybe I have a purpose in life here on Earth.

I should learn to count my blessings, appreciate all that I've been given, instead of moping around, feeling sorry for myself.  My psychiatrist, whom I see every week, has suggested that I do this, as a way of helping  me heal, move on, from past hurts.  It couldn't hurt, but I sometimes feel embarrassed about pouring out my deepset feelings in a notebook.

Well, I am going to go now; I have to get supper ready.  My friend Rainbow EagleFeather and her son, Myles, nine, are coming over for supper; we're having beef jerky, fried potatoes, and salad (they're having the jerky and potatoes; I'm having the salad, thanks to my diabetes and high blood pressure; I have to watch what I eat, so I don't get into trouble).  I will write in here soon; when, I don't know, but I'll try to write more in here than I have been.

Take care and may the Great Spirit watch out over you and protect you!

~Love, your friend, Wyndi Storm Piestala.  :)