I don’t have them that often. I never really did as a child either. It felt unsafe, and still does, to a certain extent. I feel out of control, even though, I know I am not. I see myself having them, indulging in them, allowing them air. Fanning them. It was over nothing, as they usually are, a mere symptom of a deep self-pity about not having things my way. And, being or feeling out of control of my life and of what needs to be done. Housework. I want it done but don’t want it take up my precious time. Let it be. Accept it. You have a home, unlike all those people in LA who have lost everything. Bless them. Let it all be. Resistance and non-acceptance uses up energy. Let it be. All of it.
