Once, there’d been a time in my life when thoughts were something to be welcomed, and pored over, like pages in a favorite book. Just to idly think about things—the weather, the future, the subject of a paper I needed to write for a class, the friend I was going to meet for a cup of coffee—these things felt so simple, so taken-for-granted. But now thoughts crashed into my mind like a fusillade of rocks someone (or something) was hurtling at me—fierce, angry, jagged around the edges, and uncontrollable. I could not bear them, I did not know how to defend myself against them, and I could not
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