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I know that she is my insanity molded into the form of the me I want to be, and giving myself to her is giving myself over to the trenches of my madness. I’m trapped in a sick love triangle with my husband and my insanity.
my descent into madness found its roots not in the cradle of motherhood but in the shattered vows of matrimony.
Many women endure their pain in silence, conditioned to bear disrespect with stoic grace.
They will she lost it, but I found it. My sweet Insanity.

