9/11/2023 There is a power over me. It's the one that I granted, the one that I give a run from when I feel it or when I sense fear in me or panic or any other emotion that I might try and label as negative, or uncomfortable. I push it down and suppress it, so as not to deal with it. It’s far easier that way, and, if I’m honest, I can sense my youngest inner self projecting it out and suppressing it so as to capture it and my most mature, grown ego self labeling it as that which must be pushed away because of its negative nature and then I realize that that nature, is, indeed, my Self. Or, a part of it, at least. And so, to push it away, to push it down, is to push away my very own Self; and so it would seem that the best thing I can do is to lean into those moments and feel every single thing that is there, at its outer edge, and let it speak. More: let it be heard. Because, when I do that, I meet another part of my Self that I must reckon with; I meet another part of my Self that I must to look at, and know, and deal with. It may be dark, and it may not be fun, but that's Me, that’s a part of my Self, that's the stuff of my Nature, and if I'm gonna truly love myself, and if I'm gonna cut the bullshit on that cliché saying at all then why not put my own God(s) to the test? Why not take everything I say I believe in and see if it applies to my Self? Why not take all the promises of scripture and all of the blessings and the curses and all of the truths and all the faces that I've ever literally thrown my very life upon and ask my Self whether or not those all, too, apply to Me? (especially the hidden ones?) And if it does, if it does, well, then, that's the beginning of everything.