Perhaps my long walk in the rain was a bad idea. My throat has that annoying but all too familiar extremely dry feeling that won't go away no matter what I do. This is how it always starts for me. I'm sick. I hate being sick. Being sick with insomnia is not fun at all. I can't sleep to escape the discomfort.
Is it wrong that part of me is a tiny bit excited that I may be too sick to go to therapy? I wonder if my therapist will think I'm lying?
I'm feeling anxiety about my last entry. I shared too much but I don't have the heart to delete it. Then it feels like I'm ashamed of it. Part of me is ashamed of it. Part of me is angry about it. Part of me is proud of it. Sometimes I just get in these strange moods and I post things because I forget that this is public and anyone can read it. When I go back and read what I wrote earlier, I panic. How many people read this already? Then I check my stats and panic some more. Four people in Spain? OMG! Why on Earth did I share that. OMG! But I've decided to leave this because maybe it can help someone else. Maybe someone else needs to read it just like I needed to write it.