A Series of Small Steps

For months I lay in bed at three o'clock in the morning, unable to sleep, and wondered if I wouldn't be better off dead. The dark voices in my head told me what an awful person I was and how terrible my life had become. Many times I called in sick because I was too afraid, too anxious, or simply too tired to go to my job. I had trouble leaving my apartment and spent sunny Saturday afternoons in bed napping or reading. It was next to impossible to go out and see friends. I felt hopeless, directionless, and worthless. I let the answering machine take most of the incoming calls.