Today, I saw a tiny toddler decide to "help" clean up the store. She took a training potty that had fallen on the floor (the thing was almost as big as she was) and put it back on the others of the same color.

I so wanted to give her a gold star and make her an honorary cleaner ...

One of the worst things about mental illness is the stigma attached.

I mean, most people would probably rather say they needed to miss work due to explosive diarrhea than admit they're struggling with say depression.

Well, I am going to fight against that right now.

Today was not a good day. I got triple-teamed by depression, PTSD, and gender dysphoria. (Not to mention physical pain).

I pretty much felt like I was getting my butt kicked the whole shift, so I am really glad to put the day to bed ...

I got a nice compliment from one of the managers at work today. He said, "What i like about you, Dorothy, is you're always smiling"

Now wasn't that nice?

Well, maybe you should call me "the baby whisperer".

See. while I was doing my rounds, I heard a little girl crying. As we approached each other, I started talking to her in a soft voice about why she was sad.

She immediately stopped crying, and looked at me in shock.

Then, as her mother took her away, I could see the corners of her mouth go up as she was obviously trying to hide a smile ...

Stuff like that makes my days better, you know?

Sometimes, I don't make the best choices.

Like today, after the church service, our "Affirm" group was showing a video on hate crimes and interviews with the guys who committed them explaining why they did it.

I should probably have known it would be too much for me, but I was curious, so I stayed to watch.

Yeah, that didn't go so well.

I lasted less than halfway through before I had to go and sit outside.

Fortunately, I have wonderful people at my church, and so I got several hugs and prayers to help stabilize me so I could drive home.

I wept for my father today.

See, I've been reading C.S. Lewis' autobiography, and he talks about his father a lot, so maybe that's why my dad came to mind today.

But regardless of the trigger, I wept for him.

I actually think this might be a good thing. I never really grieved properly for my dad, so getting this out of my system is a step in the right direction.

Or at least I'm hoping so ...

I have an idea what to do next for Mercy, but for it to work, I need a villain. I need someone to take offence at Faith for some reason, and do stuff (indirectly) to make her life more difficult.

Suggestions?

Well, I sent off my letter to the benefits company, so all I can do is wait and hope its enough to get them to reissue the check in my male name.

Meanwhile, I have a few other things I need to take care of - I have to book a physical with my doctor, and I need to get an appointment to see the PTSD therapist ASAP.

See, between pain and stress, I could really use some one to talk to about what happened to me so I can maybe slow down the number of flashbacks I'm having ...

You know how you can tell you have a long way to go in your healing journey?

When it's 2 AM, and you're holding on to a teddy bear and crying.

That was me last night.

I was triggered by a story that featured an idea I call "the magician's force". Basically, it's where you give someone the illusion of choice, but you've rigged the outcome beforehand.

I believe my abuser used something like that with me.

And so I cried for the seven year old child who fell into the hands of such a creature ...

Ah, well. Must carry on, regardless.

I have a bit a problem.

I am kinda blocked on Mercy, to the point I'm willing to ask for suggestions if anybody has one.

But that doesn't mean I'm blocked for story ideas.

I have started what I hope will be a funny take on Alice in Wonderland.

I am noodling an idea called "Help! My girlfriend is a unicorn!"

I even have a Jaci and Dottie story peculating,

So its a strange problem, that I'm blocked on the one story I really want to get back to writing ...

Ah, well.

One of the parts of adulting I'm trying to learn is how to make mistakes.

Now that probably sounds confusing, so let me explain.

For most of my life, any mistake I made became huge, an example of my general unworthiness. I would beat myself up, add the mistake to a list of mistakes that I kept reminding myself of, and generally act like I was in a really bad tragedy.

But adults dont act like that.

I am totally staggered by the response to my last story.

130 kudos!

That's amazing!

Well, I got some provisional good news.

I was able to get a hold of the company that handles Walmart's benefits, and I was told that if I send the check back with a letter saying why I couldn't cash it, I should be able to get one issued in my male name.

I'm calling this "provisional" because honestly, at this point, I'm not going to count this particular chicken until it hatches, as it were, and I have the money in my bank account ...

As you may have noticed, I've posted a couple of small stories the last couple of days.

That might make you wonder when more Mercy is coming, and I am afraid the answer is ... not for a bit.

See, I'm kinda blocked on Mercy at the moment, which is why I've turned to trying to clear off the table some other ideas, in the hopes that keeping my muse active will eventually help me with Mercy.

Huggles to all!

Got triggered at work again today, but at least I think I know what set me off this time.

I was kinda fragile anyway, but I think the trigger was the flash from the camera in the photo studio. Right after it happened, I honestly felt like throwing up, and it took me a while to get myself centered again.

I'm trying my best, but I hate being so fragile all the time ...