A Month of Hell Has Been Worth the Pay Off
<p>I’m sitting in my college dorm, and it’s the middle of the night—when nothing good happens. Certainly, no good comes from being alone when your mind attacks you. I remember two things: I wrote a poem about the faces I was seeing and the voices I was hearing. I ran out of my room because I thought it was possessed.</p>
<p>The friends who comforted me that night seemed neither concerned nor alarmed by what I’d told them. It was convenient that the campus legend was our hall was haunted. I could admit my fear by blaming it on logical reason (because ghosts are way more logical than a mental breakdown). No one needed to know the voices came from inside my brain.</p>
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