Chewbacca got his Letter of Service from my p-sychiatrist. We have been out on outings, he comes to band practice with me. We walked up to the donut store one day. Then another, we went to Lowe's and the dollar store. He is an angel. Stays right with me. Next month hopefully I can buy him an official ESA dog certificate to keep with the letter in the portfolio in my rucksack. Right now he is wearing Rose's pink harness and being called a girl by Uber drivers. I found a summer-weight harness for him. I'll pick that up in the next couple of months.
One weird thing happened this month: I have been obsessed with money. Before you nod your head and say "no duh", wait. Not talking about it like I have on here, that's always driven by someone else putting money into my head. I finally told Doc to stop talking to me about money a few months ago. And he did. Okay, so, been obsessed with money, mainly what I would do with it, and that just isn't me. But I had this feeling we were going to come into money from an unexpected source (as in, not his dad's inheritance, or the tragedy of my Nana dying).
So I get this letter from a well respected "bank" (you'll see the reason for the quotes in a moment) that I immediately researched and found that it is a bank in that it handles money in a secure and legal way, so "bank". No tellers or checking accounts. They have been assigned by my old 401k holder to open an IRA for my no-longer active 401k.
It has been years since I heard hide nor hair of that particular fund and assumed I lost it in the financial crash because it was in a high-risk, high-yield fund. It's $4,000. And all I have to do is fill out some paperwork and get it notarized, then fill out more paperwork to withdraw the money and BAM! We have come into money.
I am happy about the money, but not comforted. The thoughts that have taken over are obsessive thoughts about the demise of my Nana. They are damaging my calm. Will my mom tell me when it happens (not being crass, she didn't tell me until two weeks after my sister died)? Will she go peacefully in her sleep, as she deserves? Disturbing.
Okay. That didn't hurt. Kind of a relief to share it with people. I may not be comfortable sharing much anymore, but I can still find catharsis in it somewhere.