I’m listening to the new Abbath album. Taking a pause from pretending competence with minor chores to have some feelings. Needing help felt like such an indignity. Seeing the effect of my breakdown on those around me came with tremendous guilt. Nothing will ever make up for how dysfunctional I have let myself become. Everything can’t be shrugged off under the premise of illness. Some things can’t be made up for, only corrected moving forward. I’m lucky to have people who love and support me, especially my wife whose tireless advocacy has got me to where I am. How do I honour that? How do I say thank you for weathering the darkness with me? How do I say thank you for staying by my side and saving me from myself? By being okay with change. By finding new ways to be a part of life again instead of just waiting to see if I can return to work. Am I using my anxiety as an excuse to avoid anything challenging? I am when I look at it objectively. When I go out I can get quite pre-occupied with my surroundings and the people in them. The greater the number of people and the more noise they’re making the more overwhelming this becomes, especially if it’s an unfamiliar place. Back to having to just suck it up and deal with it. I can’t stay home and occasionally dart out into the clearing like a scared rabbit only to run back in again. My wife tells me I can do hard things. Maybe I can thank her by showing her she’s right.