More bitchin’ and moanin’ and groanin’ from me good ole Ace Backwords

For the last couple of years I’ve been having a nervous breakdown. It’s hard to describe. It’s like a nervous breakdown in slow motion. It’s not like a nervous breakdown where I’m foaming at the mouth and pounding on the walls and they put me in a straightjacket in a padded cell and I’m going berserk. If you looked at me you wouldn’t even notice that something’s wrong or that anything’s happening.. … It’s more like this constant anxiety in the back of my brain. It sort of comes and goes — there are periods where I don’t notice it — but it’s like it’s always there, even when it’s dormant. . . And this sense of dread, of impending doom. Like the boom is going to be lowered, the rug is going to be pulled out from under me, like it’s all leading to a bad end. . . I’ll have other moments where I get my confidence back, where I get this cocky, jaunty kind of mode, like I’m on top of everything and life is just a great goof. But then the anxiety will return. Like this quivering ache in the pit of my stomach. . . Sometimes I’ll wonder if I’m going mad. But what does that even mean? I used to have this saying: “I used to worry I was losing my brain. But I can’t go crazy ‘cuz I’ve never been sane.” Sometimes it seems like the whole world is going insane. Like the fragile fabric that holds society together is unraveling and coming apart. . . Occasionally I’ll wonder if there’s some kind of therapy I could get that would make me feel right. But I can’t really think of anything. I suppose somebody could pat me on the back and say, “There, there, Ace. Everything is going to be all right!” But I doubt that would help much. Sometimes, the best you can do is to just do nothing. To try not to make it worse. To just live with the pain as best you can. “Keep a stiff upper lip, mate!” . . . Life is ultimately a mystery. At least to me. A lot of questions, and not a lot of answers. You just keep move onward. Hopefully in the direction of the light. Even if it mostly seems like you’re going around in circles. “This too shall pass.” . . Sometimes I’ll pray to God. Just because there’s nowhere else to turn. And I figure it can’t hurt. Even if it usually feels like there’s nobody listening at the other end.

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