Corrine (cadi_ray) wrote,

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A nice walk

I pulled myself away from the computer to go to an appointment with a fairly new psychologist with years of experience. It was a beautiful day outside, but I had three layers on as though it could snow at any moment. The bus was late and I didn't leave early, so I barely made it. We spoke for 15 minutes or less, because it was her walk in hours. She told me to do some things to relax and come back in a week. So I wandered around a museum for a few hours. It always makes me feel insignificant or unimportant to wander in those places, but I felt better despite feeling hungry since my food stamps were cut off temporally. I absorbed various images and facts, wishing I had a sketch book on me to really take in a few favored exhibits. Fairly soon the museum closed and the bright spring sun reflected upon the lake. I was haunted by a few things I still want to say to Mr., thanks for being there or telling him off. My psychologist suggested to stop texting him, telling me every time I text him the grief process gets a little longer. I don't know if she is right, but it isn't helping the situation anyway. Back to the lake, I remember those ripples and those trees as I once rushed to capture them in liquid on canvas not so long ago. I see the growing stacks of journals and realize my medium went from art to words. It doesn't matter either way, I'm disabled and maybe writing or art are the only higher purpose I have in life. Away from my thoughts for a moment, a squirrel looks at me, people must feed him too much, because he follows me as I walk away. Since I've been lonely and feeding animals, I've noticed the same animals that hated me a year ago come up to me with great delight. The day fades a little more and I get close to home. Everyone's lawn is beautiful, I start to feel ashamed of the tall weeds and garbage in my yard. "I've been sick, it is okay to take care of myself, the weeds aren't going anywhere", I reassure myself gently. Home finally I don't have to feel hungry. I feel a little sad about having the house, because it is difficult to keep such things with the income I expect to make while disabled. Oh well for now another day passes. Nothing interesting, no dramatic symptoms except tiredness and regret. Now it is time for dinner. It doesn't feel right to need so much from others, but then doubt about doing it myself still lingers on. At least today I have everything I need and even a little extra.
Tags: art, disability, schizophrenic, walking, writing
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