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When the pain reopens old wounds, they start to bleed again and again. When the people around you make you feel nothing, inadequate, mortified, the demons of the past resume dancing around you, laughing triumphantly. When the people you love most hurt you, humiliating you, the chasm you thought you had overcome opens up again in front of you.

Your head is spinning, your breathing becomes labored and the long-thrown back tears come back to sting your eyes, burning.

And a malignant vortex opens in your stomach, devastating you, destroying the precarious balance built with difficulty. It is then that it returns, the will to die.


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