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2 months agoPeople talk about being there “for” someone. Here being there “with” him is more important.
When I’m depressed, having someone sitting on the couch in my living room scrolling on their phone is infinitely more meaningful to me than someone who is miles away and texting me a lot or offering to help with things. It’s probably part of my neurodivergence but having the person close in proximity while at least sort of paying attention to the room makes me feel less alone than having 10 people trying to check in on me all day.
Not even a little. I went out in shorts and a t-shirt for about an hour, exchanged banal pleasantries with family until my anxiety got the better of me and I had to leave, sat in a room with no windows watching old shows and snacking, and am waiting until exhaustion allows me to sleep a couple hours until I go to work on one of the two days remaining on my schedule. After that I might not have any work for months unless I can find something close by that doesn’t make me legitimately contemplate things. I have a broken tooth, some kind of respiratory thing going on, and an unmentionable medical issue that really needs to be seen by a doctor but I can’t afford one and my government insurance was denied because I made a couple thousand more this year than last year.
On the bright side, my truck is finally working again and assuming the now-slowly-leaking-while-on fuel pump doesn’t catch a spark before I can afford to have it replaced I don’t have to share a car this week. Which is nice.