Not Letting the Thief in the Night Steal Your Treasured Day

Good days are hard to come by. When they do, it usually revolves around having no issues with eating. Great energy. Bowels are working. Things we usually take for granted. So many people will walk through life with not a care in the world - having no idea of the cancer-ridden people next to them who is having severe indigestion and feels like they're about to die.

So yeah, when a good day rolls around, it's great. I have energy, I have happiness. My mum calls it "high". Saying I'm "high" already when I'm in a good mood. It makes her happy to see me happy and I want to give her more moments like these.

Even if it's just me being an idiot. Which is what I used to do all the time.

But when night falls, and things get quieter... the thoughts get louder. The thief of happiness starts creeping in, ready to steal all the good things away from me. Ready to tell me it's fleeting, pointless and that I will be dead.

He must be great at parties.

It's hard to push these thoughts away. Fucking mindfulness will tell you to allow yourself to see and feel these thoughts, to watch them from a distance and let them move on their merry way. So I've been trying to do that.

BUT IT'S FUCKING HARD.

I wrote a text the other day, "I wasn't so good today. But I'll be fine tomorrow." and subsequently burst into tears. Because what if I'm not? Tomorrow isn't guaranteed to anyone, sure but what if I've had my last "fine" or good day? We never know when it is, and then you spend your time wishing you'd done more when you could have.

I dont want that to be me. I want to go to sleep thinking "That was a perfect day and I wouldn't have added anything else. If that's my last good day, then good."

That thief has stolen a lot of my good days in the last 4 months of going through this journey. No more.

Fuck off, ya trash!