And it's one of absolute misery and despair. I thought I was doing better for a few hours because I resisted the temptation to drink and take benzos to stop the panic, but that was a mistake. THinking I was doing better was a mistake, I mean, not the resisting temptation, that I'm still doing. THinking I was better was obviously a mistake though, because all I can think of is how much of a lonely, miserable failure I am and will always be. I thought I could sleep, no such luck, my entire body must have skyrocketed in temperature because I felt like I was burning and had to get up so I could splash water on myself and stop sweating. The outlook really is bleak and it gets worse and worse every day. When I can manage to sleep, I have dreams of failure; I can't even do things right there, let alone in my waking life. There's a lot more I want to type, but I can't, I can't even be honest about all of my true feelings on a forum where I'm using a ridiculous made-up name so how will I EVER be able to connect with a person in my real life? I won't be able to, that's the sad answer to that question.