Oops. Looks like I pulled out the fire extinguisher for a piece of burnt toast.
I sometimes think about how it’s impossible to know after the fact if you’ve overreacted to a minor threat or if your overreaction is precisely what kept the threat from growing and eating your head.
I’m glad that I didn’t actually lie down on the subway floor the other day. I only got a bit anxious and found it a bit harder to cope with conflict. But, here’s a grain of salt to chew on: when I say a bit anxious, it’s kind of like a skydiver saying that a skyscraper is a bit high.
Do sane people spend much time wondering whether or not they are sane?
I don’t think so either. Maybe the very fact that I’m over-analyzing my thoughts is evidence enough.
Skip this paragraph if you don’t want to read about that mom who is always gloating about her perfect lucky life and the effectiveness of her psychiatric medication cocktail. I feel so fortunate that I got a whole week of inner peace. Well, not exactly inner peace, more like inner nothingness. I was able to get out of my head and focus on the world around me. I was a wonderful break from having to constantly question my reality.
You should be. Here’s a picture of me: