That sick feeling of defeat.

I make myself sick.

Not long-dead corpses, not seeing other people barf, and not even seeing bodily fluids and internal organs gushing all over the place.

I make my own self sick.

That sick feeling you get when you don't reach the expectations you set for yourself, that sick feeling when you fall into something you never thought you would get yourself into, and most especially, that sick feeling when deep down you know that you could have done something else.

That sick feeling when you realize you can't do anything to change that anymore.

I feel like I just stepped out of a very long nightmare, the worst part is that I actually thought I was doing alright. That moment when you wake up and you realize how terrible your dream has actually been, makes you grateful that you woke up. Yet it doesn't refrain from leaving you the creepies.

*Shivers.*

Others may not have the same abhorrence that I have for such as this, but don't we all just torture ourselves a little too much sometimes?

Well, what's done is done. That's the best I can say about that. I'm grateful for the grace I continue to receive, because I really don't deserve it. The ankles are giving way to the 5-inch wedges, but I'll trudge on, no matter how hard and no matter how long it takes.

Joy comes with the morning. He makes all things new.