Crying, sniffling, more crying, over eating, crying some more, and existential dread. Then I go to work and pretend it will just magical go away, become delusional, go home, and start the process all over again.

I might need therapy.

I wish all bathrooms were like this. It would be so much easier for me as well as so many other people.

I regularly mowed my neighbor’s lawn during their time in treatment since they had almost no energy for it. Sometimes I would make soup, but if you are going to cook, find out what their food restrictions are first.