[Gallagher]

I feel like I'm on the verge of a breakdown that I can't afford to have. Every minute trying to rest is wasted, but every minute trying to get things done leaves more hollow, leaves more room for aches and pain and that familiar coldness. I spend so much time in my days trying to reach a point where I can function, even if only for a single task. I don't want to keep doing this. I can't focus. My head aches. The clock is ticking, I'm getting nothing done, but if I try to rest I know I won't. The itch is too deep. Too incessant. More and more, I've been thinking of old tools of the trade. Of old memories, old hurt. I'm terrified that if I break now, I'll return to what I was then. I'm terrified of not doing better. If this is the best I can be, what's the point in any of this?

My head hurts. The rats keep gnawing. If I don't finish what I'm trying to do now, it won't get done. But it's so hard to breathe with everything taking up so much space inside of me. Maybe soon I'll stop crying.