I remember life before introspection. In the first couple years of High School, when I still hadn't become fully self-conscious, there was a certain time delay to everything. I'd act first, reflect later. I'd open my mouth and then retroactively rationalize what I'd say later. If I made a social blunder, I wouldn't recognize it until the consequences boomeranged back. I'd then have to hazard a response to save face, and somehow integrate that I made a mistake.

Until one year, I made a clear effort to make no more mistakes. When I came home, I berated myself in notes to stop and think. I told myself to practice certain tricks, like to every ten minutes just stop and reflect on what I'm doing to make sure it's how I really wanted things to be conveyed.

I miss the fluidness of the pre-aware days. Days would just float by and I'd only come up for an air of reflection like 5 minutes in the afternoon, and then I'd go back to eating my PB&J sandwich or work on my homework. I questioned nothing about what I was doing. Then again, I was more like an animal. I'd get angry or frustrated and I wouldn't have the simultaneous awareness that I was acting on anger or frustration. I was like on a kayak zooming down some current, and the only way to control myself was by paddling rapidly to just slightly adjust the extrapolation of my emotions.