Lately, I will use my left hand to do banal tasks, as I've discovered it makes me feel like somebody else is doing it for me. An attempt at treating myself right.
Count on nothing, no one but your beast.
And I know it can only get worse. I see us as the refuse of a past life, but in reality, it's much less passive. Charged with what I can only process as hatred. Never trust yourself when you're full from breakfast and vulnerable. We entertain the worst possible scenarios, and know in our guts that they will probably be realized; in spite of what we've been trained to believe by the very villain since consciousness. We feed off of each other's pain brought on by one another with insults and intentionally false accusations. A vicious cycle that holds together like glue. It's confusing on a very base, biological level. I find myself shaking my head to myself, more days of denial and disbelief. April is almost here. Watch for choppy waters.