G.

March 30, 2016

My psychiatrist acknowledged that I am a complex person.  No he didn’t.  That’s just wishful thinking.  He acknowledged that I need help.

Now I want to whip up my muse again, Gunther keeping my neck warm by sitting on my shoulder.  He can see out the window that way.  I struggle with depression; some days just going out into the back yard seems all but impossible.  On my best days I can get out there and I sit on the swing, looking at the garden, the birdhouse, the woodshed, the compost heap, the trees.  It’s all pretty close in.  However, my best index of how I’m doing is to watch my housemates.  They do better when I do.

Walked G. to the w. end of block for his a.m.b.m.  Imagine how he must feel, hearing a lot of robins for the first time?  What about that pickup streaking by?  Did it frighten G. or is he used to them?  I’m getting a contact high.