Three Hundred and Sixty-Five

Exactly one year ago today, I was discharged from McLean Psychiatric Hospital in Belmont, Massachusetts. After one hundred and ten of the most wretched days imaginable, I was free. More surprisingly, I was alive.

McLean, moments after escaping

I know I am supposed — perhaps even obligated — to write here about an amazing comeback, a perfect recovery, and a godly gratefulness for life and its joys.