Getting the Word(s) Out; A Plea; A Blessing

Getting the word out--OKAY--I'm at the point of begging for help now. The WHOLE POINT of switching my blog to wordpress was so that my responses to comments would go automatically to commenters. I believe that still isn't happening. I believe there's some setting I have to tweak somewhere, or some plugin I need to install (as if I know what I'm talking about) in order to make that happen. Please and thank you.

I really really really want to make that happen. And I haven't been able to find out how. Please please please help???

Getting the words out--Lesson of the week: going to a coffee shop to write because you're living too far from home to go back between commitments in town can actually result in some successful creative writing. Some very rewarding creative writing. If you know what you want to write and are disciplined about the internet. Even if random friendly guys start chatting to you, wondering why you are using two notebooks and your computer to write, what you are writing, who you are, etc., etc. Even though you don't (think you) like to have music in the background and start to get irritated by the time "The Day the Music Died" comes around the third time and the Beatles come to dominate with their catchy lyrics and sticking tunes. Somehow, all those distractions may be lesser than the distractions of working at home, since the latter demand action from you and the former are peripheral.

A Blessing--I'm in Anchorage again, less than a week after I bounced back down from the place of no shoelaces. I've had to tell my psych about my experience and have stirred up all the pain around the traumatic elements. So I want to tell one of the unexpected blessings that happened in the middle of it all. For some of the time I was in there, I was on "one on ones," which means you're watched by a dedicated person at all times. Great for an understaffed unit, especially as I wasn't the only one. The person on duty was changed regularly. One night I woke suddenly, as I often do, swung over the side of the bed, feet on the ground, before I was even awake. In the armchair blocking the open door was a staff member I hadn't seen since my last time in there. I said what I thought was his name, hesitantly, and he smiled and complimented me for remembering his name. After a bit he said, "You know, it's funny but you came back to my mind lately, and I've been praying for you." I thanked him and said it meant a lot. He told me he was going to be off duty for the next several days, so we wished each other well. I supposed I should try to sleep some more. I didn't see him again.