I am so close to giving up, to ceasing trying. After all, I have seen no evidence of progress, only the slow traces of what I hoped would never be again. (Traces is probably understating it, but I have to believe that SOME things are better.)
So why am I still struggling?
That is a good question. And I do not know the answer. (Who does?) I only know that I remember the intoxicating calm adrenaline rush of reward with a sobbed longing, and that I regret every time I ever flinched and looked away. I also know that every day brings more regret when it contains the possibility of finally finding that rush I crave.
So why am I still struggling?
It is still a good question. And I still do not know the answer.
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