Even now, after a decade of things being mostly good, though imperfect, my brain treats good situations like I'm walking into a haunted cave in the middle of the demon woods, on the bank of the vampire river:

RUN, MOTHERFUCKER!

To this day I feel uncomfortable as fuck in a fresh outfit with new shoes. It's just odd and antithetical.

The problem there is, it can become very hard to determine if a negative outcome is a result of the natural order of things, or a self fulfilling prophecy.

I did a major upgrade to my studio gear. I got shit that I used to be envious of, and could only dream about. Every time I get anything new that presents a significant upgrade, depression and doubt kicks it.

Shit, I know a rapper who was on the grammy list this year. He didn't win, but his album was under consideration. He's got features with major players. He's a thing and I absolutely think he's on his way to mainstream stardom.

I have an in there, but that rush of excitment is snuffed out by self-doubt. Shit he offered to buy five joints years ago, but I felt he low balled me on the price and like a loser, I didn't do it.

My wife's got a lifelong friend who is already a known commodity as a singer. She's got joints with megastars. She gave me the green light to submit years ago. As long as Lebron has been a Laker, i've had that option.

I'm not name dropping here, or bragging. Everyone has some sort of connection. The point is, I have them, and I have a skill I could maximize and profit from, but that wait for that hammer kills it immediately.

That shit is a plague, but it's almost an addiction unto itself. I don't *want* that feeling. But since I'm so used to it, a piece of me craves it, as though the situation is a dissonant chord waiting for that resolution.

This car accident, while it fucking sucks, feels right at home. A piece of me feels all too comfortable with it, and while there are moments where I'm pondering my mortality in relation to my family and close relationships, this shit is oddly right as rain.

The paradox here, to use that term loosely, is that I have a keen understanding of what the issues are. I know the underlying root causes, I have the official diagnosis- PTSD and bipolar(or borderline personality, more specifically, there is some disupute between two seperate doctors there, but they're both in agreement that they may be splitting hairs- I have the prescription, I know the steps I need to take in order to course correct all of that.

But that doesn't feel right.
That feels off.
Askew. Again, dissonant.

Right now there's a bit of fire in my belly, as a result of the accident, but I know that one too. I feel that burn to fix this, that, and the other about myself, and I visualize the end result.

Something inevitably comes to snuff that flame, and that's where the self fulfilling prophecy comes in: whatever that something is, I recognize it every time, and I know what I need to do to stop it. Too often, I welcome it, like that old friend you really don't like, but that familiarity is oh so comforting.

Right now, I still want to kick it to the curb.

I realize this is waaaaay the fuck more than you or anyone asked for.

But it's definitely a day for getting things off my chest, and I appreciate the platform to just run with it.