So we’re alive. Of course we would be, right? Someone inside sarcastically says yah, “Oh it’s “Julie”, she’ll be fine.” And so therein some sort of sadness and ?resentment? lies, and yet, whose fault is that? Mine. Ours. The mask we raise for our sanity and for everyone else’s protection against us. Nobody wants to see us crazy and screwed up royally. Yah says someone- “Save that for therapy.” And someone else adds, “The reason therapists get rid of us, tired of us…” Just as soon as I heard that, then it was taken from me, and I could only write the gist of the faint voice I heard.