Worry Lives Here

Having my injury (or ‘harm done’) recognized is something I’ve been desperately yearning for since this began…six years ago this month.

It’s happening, in the strange way that this stuff works, and in a way, it has helped. But in a more familiar way, I am terrified. Hyper. Where’s the money? What should I do with it? How do I spend it or save it so that I can provide for my child for…forever?

Pressure.

Pressure.

Some financial compensation could sound fun – it did for a day or two – but it’s not for fun. It’s got to keep us going until I can come up with another way to earn a living. And become strong enough to go through with it.

Yep. Still just as far away from Zen as ever. I wish you could BUY calm and mindfulness. Then we might have a plan…

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