The things in life that once were solid as iron rods have become as frail as the tiny gossamer wings of the butterflies I love so dear. My fear and my pride cause me to reach out for and grip all those things that once I could gain control of without a moment's pause. They slide through my finger tips crumbling into yesterdays hopes and today's regrets. frustration and despair are my constant companions as of late. Two steps forward, and five seizured steps back. I watch, as if from the sidelines, the lives of my family and friends. Their adventures, family milestones, their day to day happenings, and I feel so far  removed from them, from a "normal" life. A haze of medications and more medications to counteract the side effects of the new medications. Living in fear of the next time. Will it? Won't it? Alone time is non-existent. supervised showers, changing my clothes, everything I do, everywhere I go...Have to keep me safe. Can't chance further hurting myself or reinjuring my still healing brain. I feel tired. Lonely. Disappointed in myself. Disillusioned. Done. The fighter in me feels already beaten. How do I keep on? Ugh, I just do.