It’s a drug, a series of highs and lows, promising to make you better than how you were when you started. Entering in a muted state, or excited to communicate, building bridges, drawing connections between past and present, understanding actions or responses you once dismissed. You leave on a high, proud of what you realized in that hour, but then you’re alone with your thoughts in the depths of night. Maybe your mind spirals from being overwhelmed and a song at just the right rhythm sends you back into that clouded, numbing place, or maybe your emotions rise to the surface. The smallest interactions can set you off, becoming terse, or tears streaming down your face. Possibly they combine, the surface level sadness, with a numbing energy below – the most dangerous, when you suddenly understand why your therapist kept suggesting medication, asking if you’d be okay after what you just discussed in your session, and made you create an emergency plan – but will you follow through with reaching out, as you wrote down? Because while the tears slide down your cheeks, your throat grows paralyzed with fear, unsure if you’d have the courage to vocalize, “I probably won’t act, but I don’t mind the idea of disappearing right now…actually, it sounds quite enticing”.