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  • I think there comes a point in everyone's crazy when they realize that it's time to ask for help. Or at least time to admit that this is a lot more destructive than originally thought. Or maybe it's just when they realize they don't have it near as under control as they once thought they did.

    However one defines that moment, I have had a lot of them recently. I find myself hiding behind the couch crying thinking maybe it's time to tell my mother exactly how bad off I really am. Or driving home barely able to see through the tears begging whatever deity will listen to just make it stop hurting. Or, my personal favorite, looking a friend in the eye and very calmly, almost blankly, saying, "I can't do this anymore, I need help," and being offered pity. Each episode is ultimately followed by a day (or week or month) of reflection and re-commitment to the idea that I can handle this on my own- I just need a little more time.

    Days turn into a week and a week turns into a month and I grow complacent with my particular form of emotional impairment and then something happens that sends me right back into the overwhelming reality that this isn't getting any better.

    And I'm not entirely sure what it is that would make this any better. I'm not entirely sure what is wrong. A brain that works like mine can't come up with a solution if it can't define the problem. I feel like I'm stuck in this weird limbo and I keep reaching for anything to get me out of here and I just end up in varying forms of the same place. Different mutations of the same reality. I'm completely lost and I don't even know where I want to go let alone how to get there. How can anyone help me if I can't tell them what would help?
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