I have 8 clients. 8 adults that I see once a week, twice if needed. 8 life stories. 8 minds. 8 struggles. 8 perspectives. 8 mental illnesses (exacerbated by co-morbid illnesses) 8 people who need me. 8 people who depend on me. 8 people who look to me for guidance. 8 people who look to me for approval. 8 people who, if I falter, are likely to fall apart.
8 stories to remember. 8 stories I'll never forget. 8 lives that parallel mine, in good ways and bad. 8 entities that I have to sustain for the next 10 months. 8 people who I need to reassure not to hurt themselves, or someone else. 8 people who I'm just trying to keep alive.
8 stories that I carry with me everyday. 8 lives that I sleep with at night. 8 struggles/passions/regrets that I must work through, 8 times a week, and on my own as I try to live my life. 8 lives that intrude my daily activities, ability to cope, ability to sleep and ability to move on.
8 people that I've built a relationship with. 8 people that I've grown close to. 8 people that I've grown to love (ethically & professionally, of course). 8 stories that consistently and constantly affect my 1 story.
lucky number fucking 8.
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