I always hated plaid

Being aware of ourselves, namely our behaviour, keeps us in constant contact with the 'me'. It's almost like checking your pulse once in a while to make sure your heart is still beating, your chest is filling with air and then you exhale... all in working order. Check and check.

Keeping track of where your mind is at isn't that cut and dry. There's no inflation of anything we can see, or touch, there's no rhythmic beat to count, only assumptions of where we believe we are at the time. A lot of rationalizations can happen there too. We fiercely defend our positions when no one has even questioned them. We make excuses for ourselves vowing to all and to none that things are different this time, I just know it. When we think we've cleared up those nasty patterns we would fall so easily into, only to suddenly get jolted from our false reality awakening to yet another "oh shit I've done it again" moments. Those suck ass.

When do we know what we feel is actually what we're feeling if we don't know it? And when do we accept responsibility for not knowing something we know? Since we can't un-know, how is it that we can't seem to recognize behaviours we have perfected and know make us feel icky? What is it that makes self-sabotaging an attractive scapegoat? Where does it end? And when... can someone tell me when?

I think I need to be more aware and let my instincts guide me and hope that the alarm bell sounds before I've gone passed the point of no return. For now I can only sit with my life today and hold on to what I think I know and wish all of my past knowns will know themselves. You know?