How Big.....

Maybe I was just waiting until an appropriate photo came along before I posted again. When this showed up today I thought it was perfect. It made me laugh.

What can I tell you? My beloved boss retired. The other person who I share work duties with went on leave at the beginning of June and they have yet to hire someone to replace them. So I feel like I am flying solo at the moment with a head full of corporate knowledge. Some days it feels like a blessing, and other days, not so much. 

Is it growth to not want to be a know it all anymore? Who am I kidding? I still want the gold star. I do. But I've also realized I am really good at my job and I no longer feel like I need to apologize for that or get anyone's approval. Maybe I gave myself a gold star somewhere along the way.

Cov*d is getting to me. Where I live they will drop all restrictions, including the need to isolate if you test positive, next week. See why the photo appealed to me?  Over the summer we saw two grandchildren who we hadn't seen in a year. In a few months we will see two others that we haven't seen in that length of time, either. Thankfully one grandchild lives just around the corner from us. Even at that we didn't see him for most of the school year. Once he heads back to school we will have decisions to make about that, too. Dearest One and I talk about legacy a lot and what kind are we leaving. With that in mind we spend a good deal of our energy in building up our kids and grandkids. 

Therapy is still hard work. Still worth it. I went through another near debilitating bout of depression this summer and realized one day that I knew exactly why people decided to end it all. That feeling is not unlike the reason I used to drink. Try to numb the pain. I was well enough to tell my doctor and my therapist. I am thankful that the realization was just that. A realization, not a destination. But it did catch me off guard. With some medication changes I am functioning (somewhat) again. My motivation is still missing. I care and I don't care. 

But I keep trying. I celebrate tiny victories. The kind that only another depressed person or a therapist would celebrate with you. It's too embarrassing to speak them out loud to anyone else. 

I have spent my life pushing through pain, both physical and emotional. Therapy has helped me see that there needn't be a gold star for doing so. It's not a hero's journey to push past physical and emotional needs in an effort to do what? Keep safe? Win "their" approval (whoever that is). I'm not willing to pay the price anymore. 

And writing this post must be causing me stress because I just bit off a fingernail, and I haven't been in the habit of doing that for eons. 

Maybe that's why I've avoided writing for so long.