Abbath and Funeral Mist have soundtracked todays’ post-OT headspace so far. The diffuser is on. I have done a bit of colouring. I’m puffin’ away on the weed vape. But… I’m having some trouble shaking off the appointment this week. Something about hanging around inside and out of an ambulance for half an hour makes everything that comes to mind during that time more immediate and visceral. That is the point. “Trigger” the flashbacks and feelings so I learn to ground better on my own. I sat in the drivers seat alone for 20 minutes today. It wasn’t entirely pleasant and a lot came up in that time but I did it. Pat on the back. Unfortunately what came to mind today is staying on my mind. Sitting there felt like hanging out in a cemetary of my past. I don’t mean that in any sort of a hopeless sense but along with the call memories and fringes of anxiety was this quiet solemnity that only comes with moments of the past, not the present or future. I have never felt “paramedic” in the past before. Many things are back there but not that. It was always present. Until today. That needs accepted as much as it needs any attempt at being changed, if not even more so. I’m only fooling myself if I don’t start acknowledging that more. I can balance that feeling of loss with finally being available to my family again. Much like not drinking there’s no net loss when I answer the question honestly. It’s just that it’s like admitting addiction. All the irrationality is still at play.