I spent about the last hour barely able to control my own muscles, grunting to gain full control of mind and body. I realized the substantialness of this sewing endeavor test fitting new pants. That I am not a social person or charismatic, but I’m trying to sew pants for people, and doing this custom drafted pattern would mean I need some of that. So my muscles tensed and I didn’t want to open my eyes, collapsed to the floor, gave up sewing, crawled to the bathroom and tried to brush my teeth but my mouth locked and everything dribbled out. I stared at my own face of pain in the mirror. There’s no one tormenting me but my own self, and I can’t escape myself unless I’m not myself anymore but a pile of matter. It happened this bad a couple years ago which started the who medicine thing, but this time I’ll just try to keep it from the ears of those around me. I can’t give my best to others, which hurts also. I can’t make myself much better without crumpling. I’m sorry. I try to be thoughtful and interesting and hope, but it’s been a long time without much.