No matter how far I drive I can’t get away from it. I’ve shut myself off from the world and hit the road. All I want is to go to a town with a name I won’t remember and walk around like I am nobody. But the feeling follows me. To it, I am more than just someone – I am the one.

I urge my car to go faster. Other friends of mine have made plans with one another and are spending time together. I wanted to be alone. But no matter how badly I want to be alone, the feeling won’t leave me.

It is the pit in my stomach. It is the knot on my heart. It is the weight on my shoulders. It is the lump in my throat, and the pounding in my head. Each time I notice, it moves farther up my body. I try to scream, but it takes my breath. I try to punch the steering wheel, but it zaps the energy from my hand. I am captive and completely helpless. This feeling dominates me.

The best way I can describe what I feel is desperation. I feel in move up my body just like I described as I write to you. It has been haunting me for seven days. I’m surprised that it hasn’t immobilized my fingers while I write. It’s almost like it wants to flow out of me. I feel it leave my fingertips into the keyboard. It feels similar to when I release the shot and release some of that feeling with it.

Desperation makes me hang my head in shame and wonder if I’ll ever do enough to be great. It simultaneously makes me want to give up and chain my hands to a barbell until I get better. It feels like it is both making and breaking me. I’ve been broken before, and I know I’ll be alright if that’s how this goes. If it makes me, I have no idea how far I’ll go.