I’m just as guilty as anyone of hiding behind the social media facade. Of sharing, not quite only the good, but definitely of censoring the bad. I’ll share the snark, the annoying, the deserving of a side eye. I wont share the real. I dont want pity, I dont want to be perceived as self pitying. I dont want to scare those who love me or give fuel to those who dont. But in hiding the real I dont give any opportunity for those who might help to do so and even more importantly I dont give any clue to those who might need help that I’m available. That I’ve been there. That they can lean on me. I can’t fix anything, but I can listen, without judgement, with understanding.
So here it is.
It took a full mg of Ativan to put on clothes today. Just to put on clothes.
I left my apartment for the first time in too long today. I rode the T to the pharmacy, picked up my meds, grabbed a mediocre chai, and rode the T home. All told I was gone for about an hour.
I’m back in bed now. I’m still dressed in leggings and a shirt dress, not because they’re as comfy as pjs (although that certainly is a bonus), but because I dont have the energy left to remove them. I have about half my mediocre chai left so maybe that will change.
Thats all I have the energy to write right now. Maybe i’ll come out from behind the wall again.