I need help

My page view counter says that people actually come to this blog (but no one ever subscribes or comments?) so I'm just going to post this here.

https://www.giveforward.com/fundraiser/93l2/life-saving-depression-treatment

I am in desperate need of help funding a life saving treatment for my depression. I have been going to treatments for 3 weeks and they seem to be working, but they cost $400 out of pocket for each one and I go 5 days a week. My mom is paying for them with the money she has put aside for her old age.  Even if you can’t afford to donate, sharing this would be awesome. Please help me get the word out. I need this treatment. I have been suicidally depressed for years and TMS is saving my life.

Any donation will help or, if you can't afford it just sharing it to friends or on a social network would be awesome.

If you have Tumblr, this is the link for the current post http://newslang06.tumblr.com/post/53859250202/help-support-life-saving-depression-treatment

Thank You.

I missed a week again. Sorry!

Title: Tonight The Moon

Word Count: 47

Story Notes: A few years ago, weeks before I had a nervous breakdown, I had done an internship at a nursing home in the Bronx. At the end of the week, someone was coming to pick me up. I sat in the waiting room bored out of my mind and maybe a little melancholy that what had turned out to be a great week had ended. I wrote this poem there. 

Tonight the moon was beautiful

Now it’s hidden behind clouds

At one time there were stars here

But they've all twinkled out

At sunset the air was warm

Now icy wind has blown

And all my friends have gone to sleep

And left me all alone 

Oh man! It's been a month. Oops.

Title: Empty
Word Count: 74
Story notes:  Another poem about symptoms of my depression. I quite like this one.

I’m cold and empty

Nothing more than

A lonely shadow

It’s the greatest pain

One so familiar

The feeling of feeling

Nothing at all

It settles deep

Within my being

It weighs heavy

Against my soul

Nothing there

But everything, all the same

Bottled up

Struggling to break free

Sometimes I scream

Into my pillow

I don’t want anyone

To hear my pain

The pain of nothing

Of being cold

And very, very empty