6:30am. I refused to look at the clock, knowing the time would be earlier than anything I wanted to see. Any number starting with 4, 5, or 6 would be trouble. It was a 6. The worst of the options. 4:00 would have been fine. The game would just be starting but I knew it would be early enough to fall back asleep. Even 5:00 would have afforded me the same luxury. But not 6:30. I pretended like I would…
I believe today’s feeling of hope has to be as simple as positive reinforcement. I wrote (and posted) yesterday’s words out of fear and disappointment that I had let myself down. It was not exaggerated but it was exposing. So much so that I had to question if it was worth showing publicly. I still have doubts about it, mainly because it paints me in one of two lights. According to how the post is interpreted, I’m either a manic…
Things matter to me. Like that first sentence. It’s incorrect. It’s incomplete. Things matter *too much* to me. Now it is correct. I have had my bouts with milk. I have lost all of them. And cried when they spilled. The only positive that has come from milk containers is the printout of the expiration date. “Mar10”, it once said. “That’s my name!” I replied to the container that would most likely end up in the pantry. Or on the…