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While I was in college, my dad was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. I wasn't living at home, and I was having long commutes everyday to my classes (over 3 hours on the road). In addition to that, I had a part-time job where I didn't feel I was being appreciated. After my dad passed, I thought I was coping well. I continued on for about a week without any real problems. But, one day, I woke up and I couldn't understand where I was, or who I was supposed to be (I knew I was supposed to be someone, just no idea who). Everything was foreign to me (I couldn't understand what the digits on my alarm clock meant). I suffered a complete mental breakdown and was lost to the world. After years of treatment and my mom's loving care, I'm finally on the road to recovery, albeit very slowly. As I slowly try to rebuild my life, I feel a constant tug at my psyche, like a small dog wanting attention, pawing the back of your leg. It feels like at any moment, I could lose everything again, and this time... I won't recover. This fear gnaws at me, threatening to loosen my resolve. Is anyone else going through something similar?