My Subconscious Is a Bitch

My subconscious is a total bitch.

Yesterday wasn’t a remarkable day but it was a good day.  I finally felt like more than a half-self for the first day in about a week. The sun was shining brightly.  I had an appetite, no headache.  I didn’t feel like an alien in my own universe.  I woke up and decided that if I was going to have a choice, I would choose to be good.

Last night was restless, and fitful.  I had nightmare upon fretful nightmare.  I was caught somewhere between work scenarios gone horribly bad, past arguments that never actually happened with people I no longer speak with, and even a vignette where Sam almost drowned because of me.

I woke up with a headache and that familiar pit in my stomach. And, I suppose I feel angry.  I am so angry with that place inside where all of those fears and insecurities bubbled up from.

Still, I know that there’s a force inside of me that can balance it all out. I still have a choice.  I can still choose to let the crap thoughts go and have a good day.  So that’s what I’m doing.  Today.

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