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It& #39;s the small things—the 0.5mg things. The last pill bottle that& #39;ll have my dead psychiatrist& #39;s name on it is empty. I forgot to save the last pill and open the new bottle with the new prescriber& #39;s name: the unfamiliar name, the untrusted name, the unwanted name—the new name.
Call this morning re new psychiatrist:
"I am—I mean, I was one of his patients."
I& #39;m bad at phone conversations when I& #39;m not talking about someone who doesn& #39;t exist. I don& #39;t know how to talk about him. I& #39;ve always had a (verb) tense relationship with loss.
"I am—I mean, I was one of his patients."
I& #39;m bad at phone conversations when I& #39;m not talking about someone who doesn& #39;t exist. I don& #39;t know how to talk about him. I& #39;ve always had a (verb) tense relationship with loss.
"Why tweet about this? Work through it in a journal."
I dunno. I guess I just want future digital archaeologists to know how much he meant to me. I was here, and so was he, and that mattered.
I dunno. I guess I just want future digital archaeologists to know how much he meant to me. I was here, and so was he, and that mattered.
I think that, at least for now, I& #39;m only going to reply to this thread. Even if something feels unrelated, it& #39;s not. I& #39;m experiencing everything beneath the surface of Loss.
More foxgloves in my garden this spring. More food for bumble bees. Life goes on despite life going on.
More foxgloves in my garden this spring. More food for bumble bees. Life goes on despite life going on.
I have a recording of our last conversation. I recorded it because I was being overwhelmed by medical information and needed records of who/what/when/where. It& #39;s a good conversation. Neither of us knows that we& #39;ll never have another one. Maybe it should always be like that.
There& #39;s no name for a ring of dead tadpoles at the center of black mud left behind by an evaporated pond.
Something like "tadpole halo", maybe.
Something like "tadpole halo", maybe.
Google Earth c. 2056: https://twitter.com/WholesomeMeme/status/1387013666093031429?s=20">https://twitter.com/Wholesome...
In 10-15 years, YA novels will be written by authors who were traumatized by the isolation of the COVID-19 pandemic when they were children. People will criticize the similar themes and "lack of originality" instead of considering the novels as expressions of shared trauma/grief.
