The storm rages on. Fierce, wild, wicked, dangerous. Dark, shadowed, black, endless. Unforgiving, destructive, deadly, demonic. Strong, so strong in its fury. Relentless in its wrath. Tearing down what once was stable. Turning it into mere rubble. In seconds, doing more damage than ever thought possible. Unstoppable until it’s ready to move on. No amount of pleading, begging, crying, screaming will make it abate faster. It’s here for as long as it chooses. Maybe forever. Leaving me torn apart and broken in its path. The storm is in my head. This is depression and anxiety. This is my life.