I used to joke that even if you lose everything …your money, your friends, your self respect… you always have sleep. That’s not even true. The nightmares, replays of each horrible day, are worse than my days. Sleep, once my only savior, is now just another one of my cruel enemies beating me down at every opportunity.
So each day I grit my teeth and wait for it to be over, and each night I lie awake waiting for the sun to come up. There is no escape from my diseased mind, except to blast it into 1000 pieces. God bless gunpowder.