11 Jul 2022

I feel the depressive anxiety spike again: I will never be enough. The rent is too high. The job, too difficult. The people so towering, glowering, tall. I want anything but to crawl back into this hole and yet my knees scrape, the joints move in reverse, I reach for my headlamp.

A doorway on the corner of a grey wall has big white and orange letters saying RADIAC. The wall is textured almost like scales, lit in sun but also in shadow. An orange cone sits to the right of the door.

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