I have to type this post with one hand, because Boobsie is asleep on my right wrist. His toe beans are touching my fingers, we’re holding paws it’s adorable.
The wind whipped through the dark, empty trees like a warning in a foreign language. Winter was coming, and with winter it also came. It wasn’t wanted, but that didn’t matter. Seasonal Depression struck the worst during this season. “Winter” for Seasonal Depression really meant late fall, or when Halloween decorations become 75-90% off, the crowds at retail stores become more and more over populated, the holidays make anxiety so much worse. The love child of disappointment and guilt that came to life because letting others down, coming in empty handed, or avoiding places altogether. I’m sorry I didn’t bake the nom when I said I would, I couldn’t get out of bed. I’m sorry I didn’t bake the nom when I said I would, my energy was nowhere to be found. I’m sorry I didn’t make the now when I said I would. I’m sorry. Sorry. Sorry for my depression. Is it summer time yet?