Nan with therapist; . Dreamers, 1899. John Brown.)
What poor therapist would want to get stuck with an 81 year old woman with degenerative arthritis, in slight cognitive decline trailing a Ph.D. in clinical psychology behind her? (That’s my inner response to my suggestion I see a therapist). As messed up as I am, I wouldn’t want to do that to anybody.
I’m lonely but don’t like to be around people, one child has disowned me, another avoids me, and I am responsible for bringing to life a Down Syndrome child. I have sold two houses impulsively–losing considerable money–am avoiding 5 women who are desperately lonely and I can’t crank myself up to make a contribution to my fellow man/woman. Not quite agoraphobic, I inch away on my walker, also avoiding my dirty dishes. On top of that, my heart has turned to stone. This is my truth; please don’t argue with me.
NANMYKEL.COM 
We could all write something similar, but we don’t all write it, and I commend you for your truth.
LikeLike
Bless you for your support!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I could write something just like this but with different details. Life is hard. The fact that you admit and allow yourself to acknowledge where you are is honorable. It doesn’t feel good to be where you are. I’m so sorry. The saddest thing for me to read was that your heart has turned to stone. I’m afraid that’s where mine is headed some days. Right now, it’s already pretty cold. You are not a bad person. Just know that.
LikeLike
I know this so, so well! It may as well have been my story.
LikeLike
At least we aren’t alone in this morass! Thanks.
LikeLiked by 1 person