A close friend of mine got into a twitter fight yesterday. I’ve never known anyone to get into a twitter fight before (and on a scale from one to Trump this was like a 1.5 on the Twitter richter scale). I’ve watched them, but never had a horse in the race. Yesterday I was cheering on my friend arguing with a stranger. It’s a weird world we live in. Suffice it to say, things are tough everywhere and life is hard even if you do have a steady paycheck and thousands of twitter followers. They can’t follow you all the time, ya know?

On a scale from one to Trump, my yesterday started at a peaceful “green means go” type of level but then ramped up to the emotional equivalent of that time suburban college kids were camping in tents on government property to prove a point about the one percent (if my shoddy 6am Friday brain serves me right). Kind of serious, but still from a place of great privilege. Like a four, maybe. Because when you’re working through your outlook on money with your therapist, you know things are going pretty well overall.

The thing is that at the beginning of the day I was really in a good head space where I was practicing wholeness, I was allowing myself to give myself complements and remember that I don’t suck at everything, that I’m kind of OK maybe on some things and trying to rest in my imperfect but beloved personhood. This is new for me. Green and peaceful like Psalm 23. A new place of existing where I tell myself I don’t have to try so hard or worry so much. I can just walk through the world like I’m allowed to take up some space.

But then, oh then my own stupid brain starting freaking out like, “Hang on. We didn’t vote for this. We voted for power in the form of worthlessness as stated in our mental and emotional constitution! Get her out of here. Someone get her out of here.” And then the rest of my brain starts shouting, “Lock her up! Lock her up!”

So my whole self got a little scared yesterday. My whole, complete, resting self ran and hid and I was left with my “you should make yourself small and worry that no one loves you unless you keep your mouth shut” self who promptly took over and by the time it was lights out, I was confused and lost. Like a waitress getting a text alert from the federal government on her cell phone in the middle of the lunch rush.

I’m joking and telling the truth at the same time mostly.

So it’s a new day. Post twitter war, post Kavanaugh, post crisis of confidence and it’s Friday. I’m back to practicing my New Adam identity with lists of things I have completed and people who are cheering for me to help me stay focused and encouraged. On a scale of one to Trump I’m like at a Hope Dunbar- kinda crazy, bad at twitter, but resting in the grace of our God. HIgh five.