Tonight, while walking Dottie, I remembered the sensation when the air felt like the exact temperature of my skin that I wrote about last entry. This feeling is how I imagine the feeling of “total neutrality” to feel. It is so comforting. The air is thick, giving slightest awareness of a density as I breath it. The sky is a dull, faded blue except the emboldened neon and citrus sunset magnified by a layer of smoke from a fire in another county. If I think about the smoke layer, I feel claustrophobic. What if we suffocate? I began to go down that rabbit hole and quickly distracted myself by encouraging Dottie to follow me inside. She followed and got a treat. We’ve made progress.

I had a wonderful day. I felt joy. I woke up in a good mood and felt accomplished in my workout. I added dumbbells to my fitness routine and while I cannot complete all exercises or use the recommended weights they do, I am at least committing to trying the whole time. And I’m learning the form.

I met with a woman who invited me to join a grief support art therapy group just for therapists! You guys! This is the best and most exciting thing I can think of happening to me right now! I am so thrilled to finally have a space with other people who know Grief, will have the skills to hold mine AND create art about it. I felt so seen and understood. Is this what hope feels like?

I felt really “on” with my clients. I cannot explain what went well or what happened because my job is private. I did collaborate with another therapist on a shared client. We aligned on our conceptualization of the case and that felt really good. In summary, I can see the impact I have on clients and the feedback I am receiving is positive. In a job with a constant evaluation of what did or did not go well and what to do next and questions about whether I am thinking of everything I should be and how do I know what to do next and who can help me figure out that new thing I do not know and did I do everything I can to keep everyone as safe and alive as I know how to… getting confirmation that your clients see change and are accomplishing their goals is such a gift. I do not take it for granted.  

I helped my friends navigate a problem that I could help them with because of my training. And that felt really, really good. I think the thing I am realizing is that I am growing more confident in my skillset. I still do not know and will never know everything. But I am learning to trust my thinking. The quieting of my skeptical analyst is really, really peaceful. Anxiety is a little bitch – to all of those constantly questioning, I see you.

I got myself a television for the bedroom so I can fall asleep to a tv and not to my iPad in the bed. This is a privileged, first-world luxury. I feel ridiculous for how much absolute joy it brought me to lay on my bed and feel what it’s like to lay on my back facing forward instead of on my side. What a fucking gift.

My 37th birthday is tomorrow, and I have been dreading it. My birthday is the 8 month anniversary since they declared you dead, since we said they could take your organs. That is what you wanted. Every first event without you is so painful. I have been stuck in the terrible fear that I would feel too sad to actually enjoy celebrating a day where I am reminded in so many layers that you are not here anymore. I am still terrified I will get stuck in this pain, that I will have to surrender to it, that I will not get to celebrate. This is the PTSD. The fear of never having joy again. That’s why today felt so special. The fear was largely absent.

Finally, while watching Love Island, I felt a feeling that immediately reminded me of what it felt like to have you sitting next to me, hand in my hand as we watched a show together. I could feel the weight of your body sitting next to mine, the warmth and bumpiness of your dry skin. The starchy nature of the button-up shirt you were wearing. I felt what it felt like when you smiled at me or when I caught you watching me. That feeling of pure admiration I loved and love so much, the admiration I felt directly back. I recognized the feeling and started sobbing in a longing that could not be contained or silent. Dottie tried to lick my face out of crying, but I pushed her off me. I wanted to stay in that feeling of loss. It felt so deep within me, a cavern I had not seen before. I tried to look, to follow it down. How far does it go? If I keep following the pathway, will I fall in? Can I get back? What if I suffocate? 

Dottie jumped back up as I started to hyperventilate. This time I let her. I kept sobbing as her paws lay on my chest, petting her so she would get reassurance that I was okay. Stroking her gives me a version of a right-to-left brain connection. Pet EMDR.

As my body relaxed and sobs slowed, I felt a wave of relief. Or was that serotonin rebalancing? Regardless, a connection was made between the feeling of relief and the feeling of how sad I am that I lost you. Feeling the despair, looking down the cavern, also allowed me to feel you. It was incredible and intoxicating. I feel bewildered by it. I am a cliché as I quite literally wonder how love could also feel like this.

Can my birthday be that terrible when this is is my mind the night before?

She manifests that it is not.