I’ve made a lot of progress with my mental health, but I still struggle with purpose/self worth. Recent events haven’t helped, but I’m still better than I was. Right now I’m dogsitting for a wonderful pupper while his people are away taking care of their elderly mother. It’s very convenient for me to care for the dog, and the dog likes this arrangement much better than going to the doggie hotel.
If I may soapbox for a bit,
Summary
I’ve had severe depression for as long as I can remember. As in suicidal ideation when I was like five, one of my earliest memories. It wasn’t until I was nineteen sitting at a stomach doctor’s office, explaining symptoms from my chronic but symptomless stomach pains, that anyone told me no, not everyone just has 24/7 casual thoughts about killing themselves. After that I started seeing a psychiatrist and getting medical treatment and therapy. And boy. You could pay me a million dollars a year for the rest of my life, and I’d never go back to the way I was.