We want to sing, write poetry or novels, and climb mountains, but all our failures, our un-lived dreams just feed these demons. They scratch our eyes, they burn us with reality, the reality that I will always be unhappy no matter how wide I smile. That we lie to ourselves and those around us. While inside we cry out for Love, for Affection, for Attention. These demons scream at us when we want tranquility. They tickle us with the notion that just maybe today I’ll go through without feeling everything rip me to shreds.  ~ excerpt from my journal 2.3.1998   I’ve often alluded to my breakdown spiritual awakening. Within a span of a few years I became a mother, changed my career path,…