Today involved a full blown panic attack after finding out a client’s mother fired me for being gay. A fall down the stairs ending in a sprained ankle. My mom drunkenly telling me she’s worried that taking care of them is holding me back from happiness. And then managing her meltdown because her husband of 50+ years isn’t the same after his stoke. I’m sad. I’m not ok. I just want to cry into someone’s arms and be held. But I’m always the caretaker. I’m tired.