He and I have been going on miles and miles of therapeutic walks.
Miles and miles.
He is behaving in a way that is completely unexpected.
He is not a herder, yet he herds me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In case you are wondering, I am not clinically depressed.
I am going through a storm.
A flagellating period of self vitriol and doubt.
Without a net.
-sans prozac
-sans ketel one
Just as I want to feel happy without a leveling drug, I also want to feel this
--this without buffers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am on auto-pilot.
I clip my dog's toenails.
I crank my daughter's palate expander.
I wash bedsheets.
I do laundry.
I scrub toilets.
I pick up dog poop.
I feed my family.
I am a wife.
I do lunch duty.
I am a mother.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At the moment, I can not be a good sister, a daughter nor a friend.
It's not that I don't want to be, it's just that I need to work on some internal business before I can offer myself to others.
Pax though, is a different story.
Either he does not know that he is a bulldog and acts uncharacteristic of his breed or he does know, but is being selfless and attending to my needs.
That is unconditional love.
X
