I mean, people have seen me freak out numerous times, yet they still must believe that I mean well.

But now, oh, nothing will ever be the same again!
I’ve gone from a pitiful complainer to a blithering idiot and back and forth again. I have started to weep but only finished for the day; I’ve taken my blows but most likely not all of them, and I still haven’t fought any of my battles.

I have to fight my own battles, but without fighting at all. Something that was justly and positively powerful wouldn’t assist in fighting, but feeling…

As I recall the words I wrote so recently, I pray that in the midst of this chaos, I can find the goodness of what once was in order to get me through.