For the longest time, I’m fine. Not great, not on top of the world by any means, but I’m okay. Life is manageable. Then the inner tension rises and I cannot for the life of me bring it down. I jump to conclusions and overreact. The smallest things set me off in the biggest way for an enduring period if time. Trying to contain the intensity kills, so I draw it or write it out. Get my paranoia down on paper so as to exorcise it from myself. And when I finally calm down a bit, at least for a day or two, clarity comes back and I’m embarrassed and ashamed of myself.
And here I am.