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Note: I drafted this months ago. Are things “better?” I am not sure. But I am alive, and that is no small thing. *There is no framing of this, a title, or a worthy epitaph. I think I might be having a teeny-tiny bit of a nervous breakdown. I don’t know what a genuine nervous breakdown would look like: is it thinking the yellow wallpaper is talking to me? Or palming my meds so that Nurse Ratched…
















