My latest metaphor for how I feel is that I feel like my heart got punched in the face. I’m just sitting here pretending like I feel ok, and that I don’t feel pummeled all the time. It’s like, I want to be using this hurt to make art but I feel like I have no starting place and no potential result in doing so. I keep thinking each new hurt is maybe the last one, that the ripples of the original events will finally die down now. That there’s no one else to be convinced I’m a horrible person. Oh please let the drugs work.