What do you do when it consumes you?  When it becomes everything you think about?  Somehow dwells in everything you do.  When all of a sudden listening to your favorite music isn’t enough to get your mind off it? When coffee in the morning doesn’t wake you up like it once did?  When your hobbies and interests are constantly interrupted to the point where you simultaneously aren’t enjoying them, and aren’t even doing them to the extent of how they are supposed to be done.  They have just become routine, where they once stood as a backbone to your ever increasingly busy day, regardless of whether or not that “busy” had been fabricated by you purposely to divert your ever wandering attention away from it. You fought it for so long, yet it won’t dissipate, regardless of what you partake in to occupy your mind.  It drifts back and forth, much to your regret.  The subconscious is a powerful thing.  It can be beaten.  It has been beaten before.  It will be beaten again.  But this is different.  You try to convince yourself, just don’t think about it.  Not once are you allowed to.  You challenge yourself.  First step is to go an hour.  The next step will be a morning.  Then onto a day, and if you can get to a day, then three days should be plausible. What’s next? A week?  Two, maybe three? Walk before you run you tell yourself, this is achievable.  Then you realize a cold hard fact.  For the last twenty minutes while you were hatching this unassailable plan, you haven’t stopped thinking about it once.  This is a tall order.  You can’t recruit, because you’re strong, and refuse to bring people into your problems.  They have their own tribulations to deal with, you convince yourself.  You shouldn’t even feel this way, why is it their problem?  You spend time trying to persuade yourself into believing that.  They are friends of the highest caliber, battle tested and proven, yet you continue to refuse.  Humility and pride are your downfall.  Discussing it will show your weakness.  You’re in isolation for this one.  That’s when it happens.  You start to become moderately comfortable in desolation.  You look forward to your down time, because at least you get to remember.  But remembrance slowly turns to malevolence.  Sorrow replaced with anger.  How? Why? You fathom any rationality you can think of.  You demand atonement.  You deserve this, is your reasoning.  But there is none.  No answers, no explanations.  Just remoteness.  You and your thoughts.  At this moment they are your single greatest foe.   How much longer will this go on for?  You can’t really take much more.  You miss being happy.  The happy you display on a very semi regular basis is fictional.  But people know.  Regardless of how much you try to suppress it, it’s written all over you.  It has been for a while. You haven’t been here before, well, you have, but not like this.  Such is the difference between sympathy and empathy.  You can relate it to other situations you’ve endured, but you’ve never endured this.  Go to sleep, or at least try too, maybe when you wake up it won’t be as caustic.  That’s what you said last night.  And the 2.5 hours of interrupted sleep you got didn’t do a thing.  Tonight will be different.  At least you hope so.  It has to be, because you don’t think you can take much more.   The one thing you do know for absolute sure, the past is the past, the present is harrowing at utmost best, and the future is unsure. What do you do when it consumes you?