I am not trying to be dark or anything. In actuality, I mostly try to lighten what I am writing. I know that perception is fifty percent of life, so I try to perceive good.
Tonight I am thinking about reality. I am thinking that the pattern of my life, as it begins to level out, is that a good day is a day when I hurt less than a bad day. I am not trying to be pessimistic, but this seems to be it from now on. I think it is more pessimistic to be forever hoping for a day without pain when that seems unlikely to happen for a while - to measure every day against this impossible ideal, and to measure every day to be bad - I would rather accept a diminished measure of what is good, than to never know good again.
I have posted about good days, though perhaps not as often as I have experienced them. I have said they were good and I have felt like I have stretched the truth to near breaking to say so. It is a fact that I hurt every single day, but some days I hurt less, so I choose to call them good.
Today was good because I mostly slept and I did not remember bad dreams (I know they were there, I feel their residue when I wake). I slept fourteen hours and I would have slept more but my body aches when I do. I went for my walk and I was safe. I went to dinner with a friend. I worked on some art and I watched a movie. I noticed I am shaking again, a lot. I saw something on tumblr tonight that triggered me. I spent some time wishing I could go back to before this happened, just for a single day, to appreciate what I never knew I had at the time. I am not suicidal, but the thinking is intrusive. I have been awake for nine hours and now I am ready to sleep again. And sleep is probably best right now.
Today was a good day. I hurt, but not as bad as some days, so today was good.
And I probably failed at avoiding being dark, but there is little I can do, given the subject.
