Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful I can write this. I'm grateful that I'm writing this on a lunch break at work. I'm grateful it wasn't worse. Does that mean I can't be angry? Does that mean I need to treat every anniversary like a celebration of my life? What if that's not how I'm feeling or how I felt last year? What if I'm angry and temperamental, tired, chaotic, incessant, or plain selfish? I wish I wasn't. That I wasn't finding any small irritation as cause for a headache. Like I can't control my emotions and work myself into anxious fits. I don't recognize it or this fervored trance, racing on the heels of its eternal fog. And I'm lucky. There was no surgery or coma or extended hospital stay. No major memory loss or recognizable cognitive impairments. The bleeding stopped on it's own. I was in my own bed the next day. Yet here I am. Writing to a group I've never posted in. Whining to a group I've never posted in. I should be more grateful. I'm sorry I'm not.