Sometimes I wonder if regret is linked to mental illness. Of course, I've never asked because there's always that small but pervasive fear that that alone will give me away. I spend so much time on regret. You know... that one time I said that thing in elementary school or at the grocery while talking to a complete stranger. Most of my regrets are like: unimportant because I'll never see the other person again. Still, I play the scenario over and over in mind even though I know this only causes anxiety, and unless I board the tardis, I'm unlikely to be allowed to go back in time to fix these things. Moreover, should I want to fix them? All these regrets that take up so much space in my head, that make me so unhappy, they're part of how I got here, and here is a good place. Here is a safe place, and I am thankful to be here. Would I really want to risk all this just so I could've said the right thing in a fleeting, never to be repeated conversation? I know the answer is no, but I can't ever turn off the tv in my head. It's always on... always repeating.