Hello

I have 800 projects that need to be done. I to do list of things that need to be accomplished in the next 10 days. A cold that's kicking my ass still. I'm taking it step by step. I get to what I get to. I play outside even it's just for 10 minutes every weekday. I get up and get dressed even if it's just in different pj's. I don't know if you all grasp this, how long it's been since I took care of me. How really profound this is. How hard this is. How exciting it is for me to feel some shred of "normal." How exciting it is to feel something other then sadness or despair. Depression, Anxiety, and PTSD fucking suck. Like seriously I would not wish this on my worst enemy, because then your mind becomes your own worst enemy and it's a battle of survival. The goal every day is just to survive. Not even to live, just to survive. I am starting to live again. It's exciting, and kind of new. It's been so long ...

I started writing this in my sleep the other night. It lead into one of the weirder dreams I have had lately. Upon waking up, like actually waking up, I realized a few things. The first thing I realized, is I hadn't taken my meds in almost a week. The voice in my head that tells me everyone is out to get me, and that my house is infested with mice was back in full force. It's an angry little monster that makes me wish I was dead. I'm passively suicidal, meaning, really I just want to die, I have no intention of actually doing it, I just wish I was. The second thing I realized was that I was sad, and avoiding Grandma Rosie because I missed Grampa Lenny. I don't know if anybody is ever going to understand ( well besides my mom, and my husband) how much it meant to me to be able to call Lenny Grampa Lenny. I have already lost my actual Grandfathers. One I don't miss, I know that sounds horrible, but I am pretty sure he never really actually loved me and it was all ...