I always marvel at how strange it is to take a break from therapy. The routine is so ingrained in me at this point. I like the steady regularity. The week in and week out structure. I know that I do far better with a rigid framework. These past two weeks have been a bit of a no man’s land for me. I’ve struggle hard with the issues and emotions about my father and the ever shifting landscape of his mind. I’ve done okay. The steadfast, one foot in front of the other has allowed me to just keep on keeping on. This may well become my standard as the weather shifts and I feel my mood changing. It is not that I am depressed, not really by my standards. It is that I am not as good. Not firing on all cylinders. Frustrating beyond measure. there is not much I can do except keep moving and try to hold the line here. Slogging through the weekly training and seeking pleasure in the pain of forcing my body to do what it doesn’t want to do. It is my way of coping, I guess. In this perpetually exhausted sore place I hide from the real questions and answers that knock at my threshold.