So I have to ask myself, why does the past still hold so much power over me? Why is it that I go into therapy and sit there, stunned and half-dissociated from the memories welling up in my mind that I can't form a coherant sentence. Then I leave the room and it all comes back. It all makes sense again, and is okay again, and I wonder why...

I felt safe again this morning, I guess that's why I started remembering all those things. The day I found my mother with a razor against her wrist. The night my father's hands were around my throat. All those afternoons coming home from school and swallowing pill after pill and hoping that I'd never wake up again.

It's autumn again. Leaves fall to the ground and die, even here in Paradise. The days are chilly and there's the not-quite frost on my windshield in the morning. So much has changed. I don't intend to make the now in the image of the then, but it's awfully hard sometimes to keep them separated in my thoughts. I love my family, and my husband is everything that my father was not. No fears. No doubts.

...and I just caught a glimpse of the diaper genie out of the corner of my eye, and it looks like the lovechild of an imperial stormtrooper and R2D2... obviously this is a sign that my mind has left the dangerous realm of the flashback and nightmare, and gone on to a saner path of existance where I can find humorous observations again.

So what are your humorous observations for today? Discuss.