It’s funny. When I first sat down several minutes ago to start this post I was aware of primarily feeling good. I have a smile on my face still. I was thinking about how I feel proud of myself for how I showed up today, what I accomplished, and how I accomplished it. I was thinking about being a person of integrity.

I was also aware of struggling to convey these feelings in a post, such that I wasn’t actually typing anything. I laid back on my bed and trailed along after my reflections wondering about the difference between pride and vanity. By the time I sat up and started moving my fingers across the keyboard, I had spent the most recent couple minutes lamenting just how verbose I was today, how overly eager I may have seemed,  and the impression I may have given of a person who is too intense. In a matter of minutes I had managed to start making myself feel badly about who I am and how I come across.

It is not exactly surprising that I would do this, but to catch myself in the act of it was a little startling. My therapist has pointed out to me before how I tend to shame myself when I feel good. I take whatever lead to my good feeling and pick it apart until I begin to feel very badly. I find fault where there is no fault. This is my pattern.

I liked who I was today. I feel good about how I showed up. I am proud of myself. This is true. I am a person of integrity. And I like that I am.

For the remainder of the little that is left of this night, I am going to revel in these good feelings. I am not going to pick them apart and dig for the corrupt material that I could inevitably churn up underneath. I am going to let myself be happy. I am going to allow myself to feel good.

At least for the remainder of the little that is left of this night.