do i return to the scene of the meltdown or not? i have had enough psychotic meltdowns in public and returned to the scene of the meltdown often enough that i no longer flatter myself with how many people even notice such things. higher percentages take note within live support groups, but meltdowns are far more common and received with more support than morally indignant criticism. been there. done that. empathy over sympathy.

i am leaning toward staying on the farm and enjoying the alone time granted me by the day trip of hubby and the four-year-old. these days, having the farm to myself is a rare treat. i am reveling in the fact that it is a treat unpolluted by worries of cps watchdogs, the frantic chaos from the domestic tragedies that cobbled our little ship of fools together or maskites armed with god knows what new mandates and no point in telling the masked militia to read my lips.

i find myself questioning anew if my worries about which of my pre-covid psych symptoms are still valid psych symptoms. the string of miricles by which this little ship of fools survived and stabilized during the global shutdown feel far more stable than the rapid-cycling world of psychology which carried me from the kiddie whorehouses to a respected community member feel more valid than the tele-options which took over during the shutdown. the social needs of the children have headed off isolation, as has the growth of our farm operations. i survived the meanest transition of my life in covidic isolation. will i really benefit from re-building my pre-covid therapy network?

dunno. . . if i'm going to go, i need to leave in the next half an hour. at the moment, i am inclined to stay and enjoy a nummy nap with the confidence that i won't wake up to any creative 4 year old works of art.

for this very minute, we see what grows.