Hey y'all! I joined back in 2019 and I'm back. Woohoo??
Here is what is on today's docket. I myself work in the mental health field. So often everyone else's pain, suffering, doubts, trauma, insecurities-- get dumped on me. I listen and help them process.
But I myself am fucked up. This, thankfully-- my clients do not know about me.
It's January so that means long, dark, shitty winter days. I'm taking my psych meds plus some vitamin D3... I think it's helping? Anyway so I have the dreaded body heaviness going on. As I write, I sit in what my husband has labeled my "depression robe." My apartment's kinda messy and of course I have to make dinner.
I'm getting to the point. I am blind, been blind due to a motor vehicle accident for over 10 years. I lost my first and only Seeing Eye dog, A. She was almost 12. The sweetest, most loyal of black labs. I am grieving and coping. I think. My heart still hurts and I miss her dearly. I have a great support system. But I am sad. She was, after all, my eyes.
I leave this post with a memory. My girl was a hungry little thing. Even when we recieved her ashes, it was when my husband's famous BLT's were ready. It was lunchtime. So even in death, my old girl sticks to her routine-- begging for table scraps.