I put the coffee mug away in the cupboard. The one I tirelessly used all day every day like a crazy person. The one with the ambulance on it. There was just no point anymore. Maybe if I kept using the mug this would all turn out to have been a dream with the mug being the connection between two worlds. I had the two worlds backwards though. That, and there is only one. The PTSD depression anxiety addiction one. The everyday tasks are a challenge one. The guilt and shame are always hiding around the corner one. The I get scared and hide at home away from other people one. This one.

I got up and made lunches for school. I left the house today. My OT appointment at costco didn’t trigger crippling anxiety but it was still a challenge that I met. I’m colouring. I’m listening to music (Dillinger Four). I’m writing this to stay present and be kind to myself because I think about calls too much. I feel like crying but I’m supposed to sometimes and that’s okay. There’s far less shame here than there was in drinking alone in the dark.

I’m an injured paramedic that’s doing my best to get through the day each day. Things happen. Challenges change. So do mugs.