Xanax is wonderful.
I’m not quite sure why, but I always cry before I go to sleep, and the funny thing is, is that I actually enjoy it. Maybe it’s because I don’t cry out of sadness; I cry about how wonderful literature is, and how beautiful music is, and how my mental illnesses allow me to see the world in ways that other people can’t, and how, for the first time in such a long time, I feel like I have a reason to stay alive.
