I tell myself I’m not going to do it again. And I mean it.
I’m not going to stay up that late. I’m not going to spend the money. I’m not going to eat the whole thing. I’m not going to send that message. I’m not going to waste another evening doing something I didn’t even want to do.
Sometimes I’m completely sure.
Then the next day comes. Or the next evening. Or the next time I’m tired or stressed or just don’t want to deal with anything. And I do it again.
Afterward, I wonder what the hell is wrong with me. It’s not like anybody made me do it. I knew exactly what I was doing.
So I make another decision. Next time will be different.
And I mean that too.