I don't feel like I am healing and learning tonight. I feel like this thing that I did has permanently ruined me. Why else would it be that some nights I sit in bed filled with anxiety for no good reason? Or sit there thinking of him when I have my perfectly good life in front of me, the one I begged and scratched and clawed and pleaded to have back not too long ago? It makes me question myself. It makes me wonder if a thing won't leave your mind because it's good and it meant something, or if a thing won't leave your mind because you are stupid and crazy. I know what I'd come to in therapy. That it was good and it did mean something, and it's OK to be sad. But it's over now, and we all move on. But there is this irritating part of my soul that has made it clear it is NEVER moving on. So what do I do with that stubborn bitch at 2:30 in the morning? I'd like to clock her in the jaw and tell her to go the fuck to sleep already.