We Have Met the Enemy

...and he is us. (Walt Kelly)

This morning I arrived at the park a bit early. As I sat in my car, and then as I wandered around in the few minutes before SM arrived, I found myself engaged in an activity I haven't done in almost a year. Self-flagellation. I was mentally beating myself senseless. As if the voices yesterday hadn't done enough. Yesterday I wrote about monsters. Today I felt like one. I was interrupted by one of the voices.

Are you beating yourself up? It was one of the kindest voices I know- the voice of Counselor.

*nods weakly*

Why?

Because I'm an idiot. *blabbers on about being defensive and absolutely loathing the version of Sam that showed up the last few days*

I don't remember all of what the voice said. Maybe I don't need to. But it was good, and it stopped me.

Last week she said she was glad her voice was in my head, cause it meant that even when we're done, she'll still be there. She'll never go away. That's comforting, in an eerie, freaky sort of way. I was sure glad it spoke up today. I may have needed it then more than I did yesterday. I just wish I could trust the voice as much as I trust the person. I'm not sure I can let myself off the hook for my recent freakishness just yet.

SM agreed with my assessment that Counselor will probably suggest that I should have called yesterday. Maybe I agree too. I think I know I should have, but I didn't feel like I could. I don't deserve any help, I told myself this morning. That's the same broken record that was playing Thursday night when I couldn't sleep.

I really am my own worst enemy.