acceptance
Last day of rehab. I was sad, despite all the kind words being directed in our direction. Will i ever be able to believe, when someone says something nice about me? It causes me to feel shame, rather than be proud.
Kirby and the Wife returned from their trip. Both were tired. The Wife took a short walk to stretch her feet after the three hour drive, while i unpacked Star Optimus Prime with Kirby. What a bummer that toy is. There are visible marks, from where parts of the figure were detached from their spruce or from the mold, and some of the play modes are … an insult. Documented a few of the blemishes to send to Hasbro, just to tell them that i'm not planning on sending them more money in the foreseeable future—which won't work because they own almost everything. 'Till all are one.
Had a panic attack in the late afternoon. Distracting my thoughts worked to a certain degree, but still reminded me, that i want to get rid of my body.
Before falling asleep, Kirby and i talked for about an hour about bees, historical fiction, Batwheels, and Parcour.
Almost feel asleep while writing. For some reason, i became very tired from one minute to the next.