}

I don't like waking up in the morning, that's pretty much a given, but last night I took it to a whole new level. Going to sleep late into the evening (ahem, morning), I dutifully set my alarm clock for 10 something AM, as I had somewhere I needed to be roughly around noon. Somewhere I was going voluntarily. Somewhere I'd wanted to go for over 2 months. Yet as I argued with myself to go to bed, sleep just wouldn't come to to me. Which is odd, since I'm usually asleep before my head hits the pillow.

See, what I was doing was thinking up every possible reason why going would be a bad idea. From it's snoooowing to I just know I'll hate it, okay?.

So hellbent was I that when I finally did go to sleep, I even *dreamt* that I'd missed my alarm, and was glad of that inside my dream. How messed up is that?

Now, I'm usually one for listening to your gut feeling. If something feels off about a place or a person, I know to stay away. Yet I knew this wasn't one of those times. I knew it was just my anti-social character acting up.

So when the alarm did go off in the morning, I nipped that in the butt, forced myself out the door, and had a good time. I'm glad I went, but it got me thinking. About the bad habits we create for ourselves, especially after prolonged periods of relative isolation (and I'm not talking 10 months here or however fucking long it's been since this madness all started. I'm talking like maybe 2 months).

I realized that all the complex reasoning, the arguing, the pleading, all that was rooted in a deeper fear of going out and being sociable. Of trying something new, because who knows where that's gonna get you?

It got me thinking about the vices our own mind creates, in order to cripple us, and how scary it is when your own mind can try to fuck you over like that.

Should I stay or should I go?

When our own minds betray us, the truly sad thing is, most of us stay. We listen, because if you can't listen to your own ego, then who can you trust?

And obviously you shouldn't. Just as I believe in trusting your gut, I believe in pushing back against these bad impulses. In recognizing them before they get a chance to seriously injure you. Because if you don't, nobody will.

As the warden of your own mind, you alone are in charge of keeping it in check, of making sure it doesn't fall prey to the worst that lurks somewhere inside.

Nobody can save you from the monsters inside your head. Not your lovers, not your parents, not your friends. Your mind is your responsibility, and you better make sure it behaves.

A crisis like we've never seen before.

Earlier today, a friend sent me this study of the disastrous impact that the pandemic is having on mental health all over the world. Not just by preventing people who need help from seeking it, thought that, too. But by throwing us all under the bus, and driving us to our limit.

And not all survive.

We keep talking about the impact this will have on our respective economies and freedoms, and of course, those are valuable subjects. But what about the impact this pandemic will have on our minds? What about when this is finally over, and all the damaged, broken, twisted minds that have been left to rot for so long come sniveling out of the woodwork?

What will our world look like then?

It's okay. It is a trick question. Many will not be coming out, and I don't mean for fear of any virus. I mean for fear of the world at large. The damage has already been done. You may not know it yet, but this pandemic may well have been what pushed you over the edge.