I’ve just been coasting again. For months I’ve had my head down and shutting out the world with stupid ass games on my phone or Netflix binges to the point that when I’m out of lives or finish a series, I am lost. I’ve disconnected from everyone. Haven’t been out of the house for social interaction since the end of January. I do work, groceries, and then hide in the house. I am so fucking sick of it.
Hooray for fucking PTSD driven depression and anxiety, bitches!
I love my friends. I would move the goddamn moon from orbit for these people of mine. But I won’t follow a text stream or pay attention to Messenger because my head is stuck in nonreality at this time.
Today is the 9th anniversary of marrying my amazing sigoth, but due to some real world complications and issues, we decided not to celebrate. But friends, my packbrother and his gorgeous mate knocked on our door unannounced this morning. They brought a box, sealed with a green duck tape smiley face, full of mini pies (Pi Day) a new board game based on Choose Your Adventure Books, and a ridiculous pink flouf wearing glittery gold glasses that I love.
I had no idea I needed something or someone to just see me, to check on me. To acknowledge my hiding.
They said hi, dropped off the box, and left. They had no expectation of my time or anything. I am just struck by the awesomeness of it all.

But friends, my packbrother and his gorgeous mate knocked on our door unannounced this morning.
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