In the summer of 1982, the imagination of a fifteen-year-old boy suddenly sparked into life. He wrote an essay for his homework that was unlike any other he had written before. The essay concerned a faceless man boldly walking into an unlit tunnel. At first the faceless man could see that he was entering a tunnel; he could see the walls and the
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I really relate to that right now, it was good to be reminded that you and I are on the same wavelength.
Depression feels so much like being in that dark tunnel.
Thanks for being a hand to hold in the darkness.
xxx
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