See, I am walking and the path is very narrow with a foot thick and 50 foot high glass walls on both sides. I can see distorted images of what a normal life would look like through the glass, but I cannot scale the wall nor break out. All I have is my naked body and the support and love of others talking to me through the glass and moving along side me. And I see doctors and my therapist and do the tests and the protocols and the research and the everything, all in hopes that there will be a diagnosis or diagnoses to say, "Ah, here we go," and we'll treat the disease and then the glass will crack and shatter and back in the world of the living I will be. I'd take slices and scars from the crash if it set me free.