That's my high...

He opened his eyes; how could he keep them shut when he could not sleep? The same darkness brooded over him; the same unfathomable black eternity which his thoughts strove against and could not understand. He made the most despairing efforts to find a word black enough to characterize this darkness; a word so horribly black that it would darken his lips if he named it. Lord! And so he is carried back in thought to the sea and the dark monsters that lay in wait for him. They would draw him to them, and clutch him tightly and bear him away by land and sea, through dark realms that no soul has seen. He feels himself on board, drawn through waters, hovering in clouds, sinking. Sinking.

The worst of it is when my mind fools me and I continue to descend deeper into the muck and mire that I've created. And in the very plunge itself I ignorantly declare that in reality I am rising. And until desperation has crippled me sufficiently to confess the lie that I am lifting myself out of this mess, and until the panic of utter hopelessness has driven me to completely surrender all of the pathetic contrivances that I've fashioned that have put me there, I will never realize that the universe has readied solid ground that stands but a single step away.