around the turn of the millennium, i was promoted from intensive psychotherapy to, "therapy maintenance." surviving child sex trafficking is wicked enough a psychic injury, coupled with the physical injuries, that i expect to need this daily maintenance for the rest of my life. by the time i was promoted to therapy maintenance, i had gained enough comfort with this unfortunate fact of life and enough proficiency with the use of therapy tools that everybody involved, including myself, that confidence was running high that the promotion would be successful.

one of my key tools in this maintenance is the daily inventory. what do i have to work with today? on my best days, i am merely "eccentric." eccentric is a polite word for, "just plain crazy." on my worst days, isolating myself is a public safety measure. i does get mean and unpredictable on my worst days. channeling time! ! ! social distancing advised.

of course, most days i am a mixed bag between the extremes. last night i had a minor bout of insomnia where my mind kept spinning pointless loops around topics i am powerless to change or control. as a result, i awoke late enough that i did not have time for my daily maintenance before it was time to get the 2 eldest foster kids off to school. i was a stuttery, muttery mess as i attended their preparations. i am grateful that our shared but still new normal (still don't have a better word for ^it^) was well enough established that i was able to navigate through on auto-pilot. i am not sure the children noticed my struggle.

at present, i am catching up on my daily maintenance and still feeling out of sync enough that i thought i better add the extra measure of reality checks from my peer support network.

how 'bout it? am i making sense?