When I came to in DCC (Department of Critical Care), my first thought was "Hell Yeah! I'm alive!". So why does it feel like I'm in hell? Is this motherhood? No career. Brain too mushy to hold talent. My once prized relationship keeps bolting to the toilet, financial security following closely behind. My breasts finally met gravity and then introduced their new friend to my face. I haven't slept properly since morphine. The girl in the photo is buried and the fraction of my former self is starting to feel like the Sisiphys of Greek legend; doomed to push a rock up hill for all eternity after flouting my life.
Clearly I didn't wake up this morning with the positive outlook I intended. Happiness next chance I get?
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