Last week was brutal. No other way to describe it. Between early morning appointments, conflicting doctors, and fighting long term disability, I needed to have a Patti Pity Party for a few days. This week, I want to talk about how I pull myself out of this funk. It is not always easy.

I am not ashamed to admit I have been on anti-depressants since my early 20's. I need them. Without them, the dark days never recede. I, also, attend weekly therapy with an amazing person who specializes in chronic health conditions and the affect on mental health. She has pulled me through as well.

But joy.... 3 things.... dogs, music, and color.

I have a lab hound named Olivia and a golden shepherd named Dakota. They have been on our journey with us for a long time now. Both are old, gray, and cranky now. Kind of like me.

Dakota came from a situation where his mom no longer wanted him. We are a failed foster meaning we picked him up from a pet store intending to foster him but kept him. It took him years to trust me. He used to bark every night at 3 am until I yelled at him to go back to sleep. It had to be me who yelled at him. He was sensing that my blood sugars were dropping into the 40's in the middle of the night before I had my insulin pump. He literally saved my life multiple times. Now he is 14 going on 15.

Olivia, my lab hound, drives me insane. Anyone who has had a hound knows what I am talking about. The back talk. The stubbornness. The snuggles. And the laughs. She constantly steals things, does the naughty dance, and demands treats. Her life revolves around food. She lets us know that, many times a day. Last night, she got stuck on our bed upstairs. She turns 13 next month - blind and deaf. When we rescued her from the bed, she wanted her mamma. I sat on the couch with her for hours while soothing her scaries away.

Music.... Last fall, I did something terrifying. I joined a choir for the first time in 30 years with profound to severe hearing loss. My residual hearing is at 5 percent. I. LOVE. IT! I rediscovered a pieced of me that has been buried for years.

COVID has put some wrenches in getting 100 women together to sing but we are doing it. Last fall, we practiced in a parking garage near the airport and the train station until Minnesota winter kicked in. We all wore KN95 masks, 6 feet apart. The whole routine. Last night, for the first time, we practiced indoors in a beautiful, old church art gallery. Chills. Amazing. Beautiful to hear all those voices raised in harmony together again.

Which brings me to color. I love bright, vibrant colors. My house is filled with them. I feel as though my life in the last year has exploded with bright colors. From finding a forever friend who really understands what I am going through to finding a group of wonderful people to share my musings with... I remind myself of this when the days seem dark and gray. I look at the colors around me and know I will be ok.