It's amazing how things I'm reluctant to say to my therapist flow freely around midnight in a minivan of not extremely close friends.

I mean, really, what's the point in arguing? Let's see...the reason I feel like an idiot...is because I'm an idiot?...This seems most confusing, yet I'm going to have to agree with it.

I want to freak out and say that they're ganging up on me, but that would be like a mental patient freaking out at the men in white coats coming for him. Blargh.