I have covid AGAIN. And also shingles, because apparently covid can cause your immune system to reactivate the chicken pox virus just for fun, so that’s nice. At least it’s on my ankle, not my face. My short term memory is going to be completely in the toilet. I’m going to be living my life like that guy from Memento, relying on my own habits to figure out what I did with things. This was from the last time I was locked in the bedroom for a week, when I found my diamond ring hidden in a box of my kids’ baby teeth:
Better order myself a tattoo machine so I can take better notes for myself.
In other news, I started therapy.
I got tired of having PTSD dead-baby reactions every time a storytime toddler smacked their head off a library chair. It’s going well, except that talking about one thing brings up other things throughout the week, and I ended up crying for most of my session yesterday. And then I got sick this morning. Conclusion: crying gives you covid.
And so it is back to my painting desk, back to sitting on the bed and quilting while watching murder dramas, back to sleeping with the whole bed to myself. Except for the headache and possibility of brain damage, I really dig being locked up in quarantine.
Wow. Covid AND therapy. I think that crying, especially at the first sessions, is quite normal and almost expected. Just the relief of finally being able to let a few of your burdens out is extremely emotional.
ReplyDeleteSo. This is absolutely the first time I've heard "Now and Then". Whoa. Thank you.