Psychological Problems and Pulik 7/2 '18
Most of what's on my mind these days are psychological ones: I'm in therapy, I'm going to a psychiatrist on Tuesday for another part of my full work-up, I feel terribly, terribly guilty that I'm not meditating as often as I should, which defeats the whole goddamn point of meditating, etc., etc., etc. Much of the rest of my mind is dedicated to my dog, and my housemate's dogs, which brings me to today's post (fair warning: I use One Post Wonder as a place to work through issues.)
I love my lil' boy, as anyone who has seen my recent Egyptian Face of the Book feed knows. However ...
why the hell do I feel so guilty whenever I think about him?
I live in a pretty small duplex with a tremendously small lawn - when you have dogs, you rent where you can - and Rover is a herding dog, who has lots and lots and lots of energy. I throw the squeaky for him, I try to take him to the dog park as often as I can, he has about three thousand toys, two thousand leashes, he's got a selection of treats that range from the prosaic to the mutant, and so on ... but I feel so incredibly guilty about the lack of running space for him it contaminates everything else in my head when I think about him.
I wish the ol' ice-cream-scoop-to-the-frontal-lobes approach to mental issues worked, I really do. Because I don't have much else in my life, if my guilt over Rover ruins my appreciation of him, I think I'm going to spiral even further down than I already am.
Which, I should note, sucks.
I don't know if objective standards are any use in quelling your anxieties, but if they are, being reassured by a vet about the level of activity he gets might be some help. Hopefully the psychiatrist will have some more useful thoughts on how to shut this down.