I had no idea it was Domestic Violence Awareness Month, nor how depressing the idea is that Domestic Violence that took away a huge part of my happiness, a void that will never be filled. That DV might have been fueled by PTSD and bipolar, but it was still a choice my father made—to beat up his so-called loved ones instead of getting help. And that makes all the difference in the world.
Had he chosen to get help, and had help been available in the first place, I might not be so screwed up that I need to take an unpaid leave to try to straighten myself up every single goddamned year, and suffer through anxiety attacks and flashbacks every goddamned day of the year.
It’s not something to forget about what happened to me. I like to forget about it, but I probably shouldn’t, because then I get sideswiped by October.
Cleaning something out. I’ve decided to put dishes in the dishwasher as soon as I’m done with them, and then run the dishwasher at least in the evenings or whenever it’s full, whichever one comes first. This has done a lot for the counter space, which shouldn’t surprise me but does.
Cooking/baking/etc. something for myself. Red miso soup! Too much tofu, too little soup, actually but I had it. I actually ate it all. I might make it again, it feels like a comforting broth soup day.
Reading/watching something entertaining. I continue to read Snuff.
Reading/watching/doing something educational. Scientific journalism is not always scientific nor journalism. Also, learned what churnalism is.