teacher blue

New dx is complex ptsd.  It means I couldn’t handle childhood.  Wasn’t given safety or had needs met, I guess.  So they say.

So I have a dog, Blue, a basset hound.  He was abused, too, and I’m trying to treat him like I was supposed to have been treated.  I look in his eyes, not at them.  He has one blue and one brown eye, a lot like me:  Not quite right.

Today Blue was scared, and I don’t know why.  I wanted to say to him, “There’s nothing to be afraid of, dog.  Sit here and calm down.”  Then I thought about what I wanted when I was scared and little.  Blue’s on my lap now, calming down, maybe sleeping.  He’s too big for my lap, but then oh well.   I told him I loved him and would always protect him.  It felt really awkward.