There was something cathartic about recognizing the fact that his anxiety, no matter the cause or how it was manifesting itself, was something that was going to be with him for the rest of his life. If nothing and no one was ever going to be static or secure, then life itself was against him and his betterment, and he might as well reconcile himself to the understanding that that fear, loss, and agony were going to be constant companions. So, if that was the case, he had to decide whether it was a life worth living or not. As much as he hated the drama of the thought, at the end of the day, there were only two choices: carry on, or don’t.
He tried to see all the way through both sides of those choices. If he decided to carry on, that meant he had to keep doing all the things a person was
