I cut the palm of my left hand last night. It was with a beautiful knife I found on the ground, while walking with my daughter and grandoggy. I remember my daughter saying, “Don’t pick that up! Who knows what it was used for and it is dirty.” It really is a beautiful switchblade.
So Tuesday will be the fifth month since I lost my dad. Did I mention it was in a roll over accident? I can’t remember and I don’t re-read my posts. My posts are the emotions of a given moment. Not to be relived again by re-reading. Of course I do end up reliving those emotions again because my life, my pain, my self-hatred, is a circle.
So at this moment I am about to take a nap before my test over 4 chapters. I am taking an online course to be a medical biller and coder. At the same time that I am in training for a new job. My brain hurts 😒
I am wearing my dad’s West Virginia Coal Miner’s cap and hugging his Washington Redskins teddy bear. I miss him. My daughter says I am sacrificing my mental health with this job. I am not permitted to miss a day of training. I have not seen my psychologist in two months. I wonder if he thinks I am dead. Maybe he doesn’t think of me at all.