Mouse: “I just want to be congratulated every day. I would like to be clapped for that I got myself out of bed. Because it’s hard out there.
Not knowing what people think of me.
Not knowing if I am alive enough to be cared for.
Not knowing if what I do matters or is helping.”
(to herself in silence) And this worry is not a shitty, lameo self-pity party. It is an agoraphobic kind of physical freeze-up. I just stop. I can’t move anymore. It is ruining me.
(to her friend the chick) “You know what, I would like it if every time I left the house people would simply offer me their congratulations.
Way to get yourself outside!
You go girl!
Keep on being deeply important and incredibly valuable to society by just being you!
That would me help out a lot.”
Chick: “I feel ya” he responds as they totter down the steps of their shared accommodations out onto the grass. “Come on honey, let’s just go out there and be worthy of some mighty congratulations today, shall we?”
Mouse: “Game on.”