And This is Why I Need Therapy: A Horror Story

6:15am: My alarm goes off.

I slowly and carefully extract myself from the bed, careful not to wake the toddler who has almost certainly ended up velcroed to my nipple at some point in the night. I tiptoe out of the room, stepping gingerly over the sleeping dog, who is blessedly deaf and does not notice what she does not feel.

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The Importance of Self Preservation

I’m happy. That’s an unexpected feeling these days. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not constantly sad, I don’t think I’m depressed, and I’m not Rhiannon-downer. What I am is overwhelmed, at the end of my rope, and generally one step away from the edge of done. I’m drowning in that sea of obligation, and not doing anything particularly well.

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