Every single day I have feelings I don’t like having, thoughts I don’t want to have and impulses to betray my own ideals.

On good days I show them parental respect. That is, I hear them out — while refusing to obey their dictates or to accept what they say at face value. I cool them down and offer them alternative ways to look at things.

On less good days I condemn them, pretend they don’t exist, and suppress them.

On bad days they’re me until I apprehend them and restore myself. Later, I can start over again, trying to be who I want to be.