Having been seduced and subsequently beaten into a pulp by this variety of mental illnesses, I have been placed in this burning seat again.
Poked and prodded, like a newly discovered extraterrestrial, this process is beginning to bore me to a slow death.
God, just make this repetitive bullshit stop.
A constant droning inside my head; a jackhammer-like irritant within my brain.
Once everything is shaken loose, the skeleton crew begins the mass cleanup.
Every bit of perceived trash is eradicated in the most devastating of fashions, and nothing is to be recycled.
This is the abolishment of the last shred of normalcy in my microscopic life, a fire set to the feeble and dried out branches that extend from the only remaining tree in sight.
Once the smoke finally clears, the singular remnant is a vast expansion of free time.
I shall use this gift to begin the greatest feat of all: The reconstruction of shattered self.

My name is Kyle Gadaire. I have struggled with mental health issues and addiction for more than half of my life now. At the moment, I am in the process of starting the recovery process over again after a recent relapse on drugs. I have been writing like this for around 15 years now. I find it extremely therapeutic and helpful for getting things out that I may otherwise have trouble expressing verbally. If I can reach just one other person with my words, I will feel extremely accomplished.