My Saboteur

I've watched some great documentaries this week and binged the tragicomedy Back to Life on Netflix.

I also made a drawing of my Saboteur. I never even considered this could be a part of my psyche until my counselor raised it in this week's session. Self care and self love does not come easy to me - I do it more out of duty and responsibility - and I was telling her about some of my not so helpful coping strategies for depression and fibro.

That's the great thing about therapy, what you say in the room, stays in the room, but I can get it all off my chest without receiving any judgement in return.

You know, working full time and running a house that is so old it's a constant work in progress is tougher than I ever imagined. You throw in mental health management and fibro management and it's no wonder I often feel I can't face another day.

I don't want to sound like a pity party, I'm just telling my story. I am seriously missing travelling. Throwing myself into a completely different culture and experience is the great leveller for me. Travel is my reset button.

I guess one day at a time.