Cilice or Betty Carter?

I’m trying to not feel like the worst person who ever walked the earth.

I do feel that way. I know it’s about being hypersensitive. I’m trying to see the suicidal impulses come from that place. I’m trying to hear I am catching these things; I am getting to a better place.

Not the voice that says I’ll always be this way. Selfish, self-absorbed.

Get out the cilice for a little corporal mortification.

"Good morning, Mom," Ben said to me when I walked into the kitchen. He gave me a big hug.

Beating myself up gets me where? I tried to shake it.

I made breakfast. Listened to Betty Carter. Her soulful voice. Make It Last…

“Love is sweet
So let’s savor it well
How too soon the dream will be passed
Make it last”

Can’t cry anymore today. Yesterday, it felt like my mother had just died again. I heard her voice, I could see her face. I wanted to say I’m sorry, I’m sorry…

I screwed up, Mom. I didn’t do a good job. I hurt people. Worse? I was completely oblivious. I’ve made a mess.

Yes, I took responsibility. Doesn’t make it any better.

Yes, I know. I keep doing these things, over and over. I do.

Somehow, I think I should replace my mother’s voice with Betty Carter’s.

Put away the cilice and get out the strawberries.