It seems every encounter, reminds me of another. A thought, an experience.

This morning, while passing my housemate, we joked and laugh (as we do, most days)

[We often, say good morning through the door, then open our door. This is noteworthy because this isn’t the norm, for me. Due to mood swings, isolating, etc]

She said “I’m watching you, so you’d better be good” I said “No problem, I have no problem”.

I said “That’s how I work” (I worked alone as I did, if someone were watching me) and “That’s why I wear my keys, on my belt loop” So, you know where I am” (really, so I won’t lose them).

It reminded me of the homes, I’ve worked in. That I had keys to (for years) in Georgetown, Capital Hill, Martha’s Vineyard.

Working on historic landmarks. Lincoln Cottage, The Arlington House. Some requiring security clearances (The Blair House)

[Now I’ve done my thing. Started drinking beer when I was 5 years old. Smoking weed and cigerettes, at, 11. I drank and drugged and done time. I’ve had most experiences, most would be shocked to hear about. Life, goes on]

Trust. It means a lot.

It makes me think about the things, I’ve gone through. The trust that was broken.

And how, just the slightest violation of trust, doesn’t feel slight, to me.

Author: My Life with mental illness

I have dealt with depression, most of my life and I've tried different antidepressant. With the right diagnosis and med mix, I have lost 40 pounds. And I am managing, my mental illnesses.

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