I unfocus my eyes when I’m feeling pathetic inside; when I see everything in astigmatic haloes, I’m less sensitive [even to touch. It’s a psychosomatic response]. I think back to when I was seven, when I didn’t even know what anxiety was, let alone what it felt like...’God, I miss your self-righteousness’, I hear my voice in my head (using The Lord as an expression and not as an addressee). There’s a tender fibrousness in my stomach that tells me I’m sorry for myself again, because I thought I’d never be this way...but even so, I’m lucky. Someone rescue me from me.