Whenever I write here*, I forgive myself for this, occasional smugness, because if I haven't been grateful or satisfied with my lot I would have been trapped in my own web of anxieties. A growing web of anxieties that will keep me moving inward and the world outside shrinks smaller and smaller. I write these things for myself. Because at a certain age, it gets embarrassing to tell anyone. We don't want pity. Drugs and therapy are a privilege. Writing and perhaps a little bit of overthinking is a way to develop fortitude. Writing and all this thinking, dramatic as it may seem, somehow makes you grow a pair.
*Fortunately, nobody reads it. It lives with me. I wouldn't want it to die with me.
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