I still feel it peeking around the edges. It comes when it's inconvenient: when I'm in a crowd of strangers stuck on a rush-hour skytrain, when someone who would be inconvenienced by my breaking down is speaking of something altogether else. I am, of course, a fucking world champion of stoneface when I need to be. I spent many years breaking down
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I hope you find an outlet.
I've been going to the float house because in a sound-proof sensory deprivation tank, you can sob until you choke on your own tears and no one asks anything or wants to console you or stop it or anything.
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