The pain so unrelenting and excruciating that death itself becomes a positive. As if someone/something has reached inside your gut, grabbed a hold of your heart and soul and started squeezing tighter, ever tighter. Sure your next breath will be your last.

Sometimes the little blue pill the Pdoc prescribes allows you to drift into a fitful sleep full of shadows of emotion. You wake with a start, sobbing loudly, tears streaming down your cheek and the crushing sensation of oppressive sorrow surrounding you.

The first rays of daylight cast an eerie glow to your chamber of horrors. Perhaps today will be different, less pain, a glimpse of release from the days that have come before. But no, even daily routines become agony only performed to retain what little reality is still left.

Always lurking in the shadows, it lays in wait for that one split second of weakness then pounces with a vengeance. An overwhelming sorrow and hopelessness scream their existence. You sit in a busy store parking lot surrounded by hundreds shoppers paralyzed, unable to do anything but sob uncontrollably giving in to a flood of tears.

Why is this happening? What Gods have I royally pissed off? Will this sense of total despair ever let go of my heart? Why do I never get better? Why does even one little baby-step loom as large as the Great Wall of China?

IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS my soul screams. Perhaps death is the only way to find peace, a final release from the pain. No more, no more I beg but no one can hear me for I alone exist in this living hell.