Yesterday was objectively really good. In here, it was a disaster. I cried at my desk for a while. Then I went home early. Some other shit that’s going to be embarrassing today went down.
My goal was to be unconscious as quickly as possible. But I also walked the dog and answered work emails and sent reassuring texts to my coworkers so that no one would be inconvenienced by my losing my damn mind. Then I made sure I had a little something to eat, even though I wasn’t hungry. And I took my medicine. Then I tried to self-destruct, but I got tired and went to bed instead. But apparently I also set an alarm so I’d get up and let the dog out before our normal bedtime.
And this morning, I found a large glass of water on the sink that I must have left for myself.
I don’t know what to make of the fact that I have this inner responsible dorky sweetheart who doesn’t want me to suffer. I don’t know where or when I developed a part of me that is sweet to myself, but here she is.
Anyway, I made the therapy appointment. I got that done, too. At least. The Wednesday after I get back from Phoenix.