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I’m having a bad day today. I’m a little freaked out that my husband’s family (one of them a convicted child abuser) will be here in a few days to empty my home of its contents. Inside, I’m stomping my feet like a little child throwing a temper tantrum. In a whiny tone, I could respond by saying that I know I let him have that stuff because I wanted something else (the children), but it’s not fair! [Still whining] I was pretty well set when I married him, and he was in debt and didn’t own a thing. Now, here I am left without any material goods and all the debt. Scream, sob, stomp some more! Well, to look at me all you’d see is a grouchy face and a plate of cookies, but I’m screaming and stomping on the inside! I’m feeling alone and like nobody cares. I’m having a pity party, and, quite frankly, I’m enjoying it in a weird sort of way.

I’m enjoying it because someone is feeling sorry for me and loving me. I’m getting all of someone’s attention, and they’re giving me cookies. Sure, okay, so what…..it’s me. It’s been a long time since I’ve loved on me. It’s been a long time since I actually focused on my needs and my wounds and did any self-comforting.

So, I’m having a bad day today. I feel sorry for myself. I’ll regret that plate of cookies tomorrow. But, I won’t regret taking the time to feel and experience my emotions.  That part has been a long time coming.

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