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I have become possessed by a terrible, sickening anger as of late. It’s there the moment I wake, it pollutes my dreams. I feel trapped. I feel enslaved to the past. I just can’t seem to shake it or move past it, this vile pain. So many people to whom I once felt so close are now irreparably, irrevocably gone, and I don’t know why, or what to do. I know for certain by now that I am the solitary root of every problem in my life but I do not know how to fix what is broken within me, I feel helpless against my own wretched nature. Why is that it is always the people who tell you that that they care for you the most who end up maiming you so grievously? The worst part is that I would do it again, because even that agony was so much better than this devastation, because I have no sense of self-worth. I still have nightmares about Ana every night. I can’t remember anything else except her disappointment and anger. There’s no person left there anymore, no matter how hard I try to look for one, no matter how desperately I try to claw back through the confusion and the din. I was just a burden after all. A stumbling block on the way to a more hopeful refuge where I am not and never was. There are days I’m convinced that I’m dead. In my dreams, I never really made it out of the basement but was devoured whole by the devil in that damp dusty darkness. That somewhere along I-15 North one winter the earth just opened up its mouth and I vanished into it without a trace. I hope they’re all suffering. I’m pretty sure they aren’t. Everyone can find a way to escape it and move on except me. Why? Why am I broken in all the ways in which other people can, must be strong? I don’t have anyone left to blame except myself. I’m too stubborn. I’m scared. I don’t feel like I’m capable of correcting my course.