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The worse the pain gets, the more emotionally labile I become. Sometimes I find myself rocking back and forth on a knife's edge. Despair, frustration, anger, panic....and I just wish it would end. My thinking becomes disordered and I become sure that swallowing every pill I have left would be the best result. Nothing else seems worthwhile or worth saving. Anything to get away. Just to escape.

Of course, eventually it goes away. Through the roiling and the trauma, relief appears and what I took finally kicks in enough to restore some sense of balance. It always takes time though and I never know how much. Each time always feels longer than the last, worst than the rest. In that light, it's hard not to wonder which period is actually the bout of insanity. Anything for a measure of peace.

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henwy
In the darkness the trees are full of starlight
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