April 1st, Year 22

And suddenly, I am doing well. My health is much improved, both emotionally and physically. I feel strong, and each step I take is done with internal direction. Something speaks to me. My heart, perhaps. And it knows. It has always known.

It is that easy to lie. You start with a sentence, and the paragraph forms itself. The truth exists behind the wall of words. There, the anxiety continues to shake confidence out of me. There, I stand as a flaxen-haired woman, bending in every direction, both from fear and lack of strength in my stabilizer muscles. There, I hate in secrecy and inhale nicotine, more than I do hope. There, I command my demons and my Cerberus, but they are rough and simple. Frequently, they strike against me. There, I see blurred shapes and spend too much time on making sense out of them.

Someone is out to hurt me. Someone is set to destroy me. There is nothing to be done, when that person is me.

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April 1st, Year 22

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