At the Printer's

I’ve been “this way,” defined by my C-PTSD symptoms, for almost three months. Every day is an adventure, not every one easy. In that time, I have had two weeks that felt great. The rest of the time is "iffy" time; the past few days were rough. My symptoms ebb and flow.

It’s both weird and wonderful to feel pride for very modest achievements such as shopping or going to a medical appointment.  I’m a significantly different person—at least it feels that way to me—whom I am starting to understand.

I am really pleased with my “What the hell happened to Chris?” booklet. It's at the printer's now and I can hardly wait to handle it and see it in non-digital form … and to hear how it goes over with my friends. I feel a revival of interest in long-form writing, too. What else am I going to do under self-imposed house arrest?

I’ve gone on some little walks and have a couple of photos of my trip to visit the two Davids on Bowen Island.

That's my friend, David (Sr.), at the far end of the largest
pond on his 3-acre food garden. It is paradise.