I can feel this fog on me again. My father has finally left. My parents were adamant in following me to Massachusetts until I hit baseline. I had to convince me new psychiatrist to tell them they can leave now. Now that I’m alone, I can feel it. That brokenness that I felt back home. Back in my old apartments. When I would lie in bed and stare at the ceiling. I can feel it now. That sense of dread. The sense that I’m several layers out of my depth. The alarm bells ringing telling me to run. That questioning asking me “why did I do this?” I hit baseline.
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I hear you. I have read your words, and I hear you. You are not alone.