Many people are celebrating the end of 2020 by posting positive things that happened to them during an overall terrible year. As I’ve said before, my new year usually starts in November, but the second half of 2020 hit me a little harder than usual and I’m only now getting around to my thoughts.
I carefully used the point of my trowel to flick away a piece of dirt from the artifact. After I had scraped enough large pieces of dirt with the trowel, I reached over to my kit and grabbed my brush. It wasn’t yet clear what the artifact was, so I gently moved the brush back and forth, clearing away the dirt to get a better sense of what I had found.
Last October during a regularly scheduled checkup with my doctor, we had a discussion about taking medication for my PTSD-related nightmares and flashbacks. I hate taking medications, but she noticed a continued increase of nightmares and flashbacks. I wanted to think about it. I’ve said I wanted to think about it every three months during my checkups.
Everyone thought the Australian Grand Prix was going to happen. It didn’t. Then, everything changed.
The left side of the desk is my side. The right side is Paul’s side. I do my online therapy from here and there are many distractions.
I walked into my therapist’s office for my usual Tuesday appointment and sat down in my usual spot. We exchanged the normal pleasantries before she said, “Irene. We need to talk.”
My brain screamed the loudest, “Fuck,” I ever heard rattle through my skull. I knew what was coming.
Over the past few weeks, I have been making a conscious effort to spent less time on the internet. It’s been a mostly successful endeavor.
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