I Had A Dream... a few nights ago.

Everywhere I looked.

And, don't worry, these dreams can last a while.

Everywhere I looked, I saw people I loved.

But, my mom was telling me that I was doing wrong.

But, my mom was telling me that I was doing wrong. My dad was frusterated by just how useless I was.

I could blame the dream.

I can blame hyperbole.

My friends.

Some friends who have faded.

Some friends who have faded. Some friends who bailed.

Who ditched, who fled when things got hard.

"You are too sad."

"You are too sad all the time."

Fuck yeah I am.

But, I have depression.

But, I have depression. I have BPD.

No, it's not an excuse.

I am working on it.

Every second, of every day.

I go to therapy. I try.

I try.

I try.

Do you?

The dream was all over the place.

Faces that remind me that I am more trouble than I am worth.

They'd be better without me.

mmm

Well, that sucks.

Well, that sucks, but there is one person who I seem to be forgetting.

Me.

I have to take care of myself before anyone else.

Just like that dreadful airplane recommendation.

Just like that dreadful airplane recommendation. The one that tells you to put on your own oxygen mask first.

So, I can think I am too sad.

Or, I can focus on my baddass writing. And perseverance. And how stubborn I am. And how I watch too much Netflix.

My dreams, my thoughts, my fears, do not define me.

I do.

I define me.

And I say

And I say I am

And I say I am fucking awesome.

So there.

So there, suck it brain. Dreams? They are separated from reality for a reason.