Last week was rough.
As a therapist, working every day with the saddest of sad situations, you learn really quickly how to keep a healthy amount of emotional detachment from it all. Get in and get out. But every and now and then, at least for me, there are certain things that hit hard inside. That's how last week was.
I think it started on Wednesday and got worse on Thursday. By Friday, I couldn't hold the sadness inside me anymore. It started bubbling to the surface right after my last group. You know when you're using every single once of focus to keep the tears from running down your cheeks? With deep, deep breaths and some little prayers, I kept it together. On the ride home and then sitting with Chas in our living room, I was finally able to let it all come pouring out. I cried for a while. Luckily, this is probably only the second time I've been affected by my work like this. And thank goodness for that. I really do pride myself on being able to keep a healthy distance from all the trauma I read and hear about in my art therapy world. But I guess it turns out that I'm a human, too. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: sometimes us humans just need a good cry.
You know what else I need? A few things. And this Saturday just so happened to be chock full with lots of them.
First, as always, is this bundle of joy.
Then, add a little Ikea. We came home with a bookcase for the living room and plants for the kitchen.
Finish off with some happy live music. We took Bette and Tess to see Guster. Is there anything better than a killer concert? Well, probably puppies. But this show was definitely up there.
And in the words of our good friends, Guster:
Hang on, hang on.
There's a twilight, a nighttime, and the dawn.
Who knows how long?
Just hang on. Hang on.
So thanks, Saturday. You were just what the doctor ordered.