About 3 weeks ago I had to put down my well loved service dog since she could no longer walk. It was sad and horrid for me. Now her sister can't walk. At 122 lbs, I can't pick her up. The vet will be coming today. I am trying not to be depressed, but my stepdad died June 10th, I moved in with my mother to help out July 15th, my mother went off on me in a drunken rant 2 days ago. The movers were movers from hell, and now are trying to charge me an extra $350 because they took so long. They didn't bring tools, a hand truck, a dolly or blankets for furniture. My 1st buyer backed out, so I got less than what I wanted for it. I know it's my reaction to what's happened but it's wearing me down. I had cancer surgery in Dec, the pandemic is coming back, federal agents came uninvited into a city near me, causing me a great deal of alarm, since I've been afraid of Trump becoming a dictator for some reason. These are all huge stresses. I force myself to keep busy until I drop, or else I'm dissociated. Oh, and I need back fusion surgery. I guess I'm just venting, but my tools are wearing out.