An Experiment with Stream of Consciousness
***As the title indicates, this is a digital copy of the stream of consciousness that I wrote in my journal. I haven't editing anything, nor have I omitted anything. I'm trusting you to follow my journey in recovery, so try not to hate me for the things that come out of my skull.*** Stream of consciousness has never been easy for me, as if my unfiltered thoughts aren't good enough for the semi-permanent state of pen and paper, or even the semi-impermanence of the word processor. That's the crux of the problem, I presume -- I hate my flaws. No, I hate my perceived flaws. I always fear that I am not fast enough, strong enough, smart enough, interesting enough, worthy enough for all of the good things that happen to me. People describe me as unique, as fascinating, as brilliant, as giving, and yet...I can't accept it. Why can't I see myself the way that they see me? Because I see my every thought, my every selfish action, my every failing, my ever monstrous momen