You find that you will do absolutely anything or say anything to convince others that you are not the person that they say you are. Still you are hurt and bleeding feeling alone and vulnerable. There is no margin for safety. You ask yourself is this it? Is this all there is for my life? I had made so many plans and time just whisked by me. Will this be the end? How will I be able to recover from this? My strength and determination are not what they used to be. There is no beauty for the generic human soul, no bond with this sickness of humanity. You become a beautifully tormented person reaching for the sides of the abyss. Your life has become like a reality show. A battle engaged completely within you by your own rules and capacities. All other things have fallen away; they have become nothing to you now. Your awareness of self becomes sharpened and intensified into a single sharp point, focused and extreme. You cannot fix yourself in the looking glass. No, you are harrowed and sad, a distressed soul in the night of darkness. The details of the darkness overwhelm you like a young rebel who is coopted into the establishment at an older age. Your former sense of self is gone. You have disappeared in the mists of oblivion. You are driving down a long dark road and have become quiet at the wheel. The darkness is your only means of establishing some kind of meaningful connection in life. This basic human need is subverted by the exultant sensation of Godlike control.