Looking back at this time in my life, I can't believe I didn't scream for help sooner. Was it pride? Ignorance? I don't know for sure. I suspect that the depression took hold so subtly that by the time this came out, I was to far gone to think rationally enough to realize I needed help.
Thank God somebody did, and intervened.
The guilt never ends. It overshadows everything. It steals the peace from every quiet moment, and dulls the effects of any momentary
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