I’m suffering insecurity and guilt, but it’s easy—easier than actually looking. Easier than actually asking—in earnest, in humbleness—if I’m being a good mother. It’s easier to feel guilty with everyone than to feel good alone. It’s easier to be unhappy with my body and belong than to, than to, I don’t even know what. Is there something else?

Alfred Korzybski brings on stream of consciousness in this month’s get born post.