Both the purchase link and the phone ordering do not presently work (even if they appear to work), so please do not place an order at this time. I will try to get everything up and running by August 1. If you have placed an order, the transaction will be voided, and you will get an email confirming this. Thank you for your continued patience.

Now to other things:

I've been in good spirits lately; I'm just as happy as can be. What a change! In my suicidal days, I would never have believed that any sort of life this good could have been possible for me. I wish I would have met someone with my illness back then who could have believably told me that life does get better. Of course some people were telling me that it would get better, but I thought they were trying to give me false hopes.

I remember talking to my brother while riding in the car to a pizza place a few years ago. I was explaining to him the uncertainty I felt about the future of my life and how people were trying to give me false hopes. He said something to the effect that there is no such thing as a false hope; there is just hope. I found that very interesting, and while I'm too tired right now (only three hours of sleep) to completely delve into the philosophical underpinnings of hope (and false hopes), I find that his statement is likely correct.

In the last podcast I talked about Alan, a man I met about a year and a half ago. I have felt so many emotions because of him. I feel so very sorry for him, but I just realized that I'm quite upset with him too—a little angered. I never knew him well, so it isn't that I miss him, but rather he has caused me great stress; for a long time I was always wondering what I could have done to save his life, and I have felt bad that I wasn't successful in helping him. So, my message to the other side of the grave would be this:

Alan, sorry I wasn't able to help you. I don't like the stress you've put me through, but I forgive you. May God have mercy on your soul.