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MrMisery

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About MrMisery

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    Advanced Member

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  • Gender
    Male
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    Australia
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    People. Drinks. Experiences, all of them. Fun.

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  1. MrMisery

    Turning Point

    It's time to step up. I'm more than this, this cowering, broken person. I am at my weakest, but that's no excuse. This is my life, and I'm owning it. I've put too much into it to let it go. I walked a half marathon every day for 4 months on a broken foot, then it happened again a couple of months later, and I endured it again for another 4 months. I didn't bitch about my bad luck, and very few saw the pain or the fear that my foot would never heal. When people asked about the boot on my foot, I just told them these are my dancing shoes. I worked 130-137 hour weeks, for 8 weeks straight, to start my business. That's the hardest I've ever had to work, and now with things expanding I know I might be in for worse in the next few months, but I know its worth it, and I know I did that when I was seven years younger, with all of the inexperience and weakness that comes with that. I fought hard, and that doesn't even scratch the surface. I did the work. Now I'm spending most of my time wanting to throw it away. Why? Because, I'm pretty sure I'm a bad person. Not for anything I've done, but because there is something inherently wrong with me. There is no rationality. I just feel that the entirety of the world wants me gone, because there is something wrong with me. Any tiny thing goes wrong, or I'm alone with my thoughts for five minutes, and I want to put an end to it all. That's not what this is. This illness will not conquer me. I will not break to it. There is one simple fact that I'm going to acknowledge as absolute fact: I am a good person. I wont allow myself to question that when in the midst of depression, I have proven the opposite enough. I'll take luxury of that, and I'll build from there. Obviously this isn't an illness you can shrug off, and I do believe I'll be fighting it for my entire life, but this does have to be a turning point. Today, this hour, this minute, has to be a turning point. This cannot continue. It's time to clean up my act, and start taking every little win I can, every little positive I can build in my life I need to build. I need to make this better, whatever the path to that may involve.
  2. Things aren't easy right now. Kind of spent most of today white-knuckled trying not to end it. I feel pretty poorly about myself, and I've done everything I can to try and remind myself that I'm not that bad. I've done a lot of very good things for a few people recently, I know there's a lot of appreciation there, but it doesn't matter. Logic doesn't matter in this. I am the worst human being on the face of the Earth, and I make the immediate assumption that everyone in the room instinctively wants to end me just to get rid of me. It's really hard crossing a street, when you're absolutely certain that every driver wants to run you over on a basic instinctual level. But you control your breath, and keep moving forward. It's also really hard holding down a relationship when you're certain that anything that isn't abject hate is a lie. But same story right, you have to work through it. One step at a time. Still, I've always a policy for times like this. When the world ends, you polish your shoes. Go back to basics, pick a simple task that you can accomplish and get it right. We'll build the world on that small start. But I've got to be honest, I'm not up to even something that simple right now. Right now, it's just time to grab a strong drink and hang on to what strength is left. First ten minute break in this though, and I'll be polishing my shoes. Tomorrow, we build on that.
  3. MrMisery

    Example

    I want to be strong. I want to get through this, like it was nothing. Too many people that I love have been falling down over these past few years. I guess the people I get closest to tend to push limits, and that results in some pretty impressive downfalls. This has bothered me for a long time, and when at my best I think of building my company to a point where I can employ people like this. Give some security, a net that will catch them. And the empathy to know what it's like. And the support to shoot for the ****ing stars when life swings that way. It's a whimsical idea, but I think I'll get there soon enough. I want to be the guy who did amazing things, and who does them routinely day to day, like it's nothing, and did it with burdens no one knew about. I want to make myself an example to those I love, that things can be done and that our limits are far beyond where we think they are. Then I fall down so low that survival is a ****ing horrific fight from hour to hour. It's messy and it's ugly and I don't know if I can keep my head above the water. It's hard, and I've gotten to a point where I know I can't take this weight alone. But I'm not capable of sharing my burden, because that's not who I am. Work out, work, be good to be people, sleep, wake up and go again. I guess I've proven that as hard as it's been I have been capable of keeping that up, so maybe I need to improve my diet a bit, and get out a bit more. Every inch in the right direction counts, and if I keep taking another inch then maybe getting through this will seem achievable, someday soon.
  4. MrMisery

    Keeping on moving

    I know the following post makes no coherent sense, but that's really where my mind is right now. A million thoughts swimming around my head, battling with each other and screaming to be the thought that's heard. It's a mess, and so am I. Fighting the fight isn't always glorious. Most frequently, it's not, and it feels like losing every step of the way until you look back on it when it's done. Whilst that's the way things feel right now, I guess that's the same story as my life. Lots of battling and feeling like you're losing, and then you realise that you've done everything you set out to do and much, much more. This is what winning feels like, this is what victory feels like, this is what I made all of the sacrifices for... and I feel like this. It's really tempting to give up, and I am heavily impaired by these thoughts and this illness, but I'm not going to cry in defeat. If I weep, it'll be with my feet dragging me forwards. There is a better day coming, there is everything I've been fighting for and it's just around the corner, and I'm going to get there, and I'm not going to waste it. The definition of insanity may be repeating the same task over and over again and expecting a different result, but **** the world, perseverance is most of what I have to offer and I'll spend every last bit of it.
  5. MrMisery

    Day one

    Things aren't easy right now. This illness hits like a freight train sometimes. I've got very dark thoughts rushing through my head. I've thought about ending myself a few hundred times today, and I instinctively want to be away from people because I don't want them to see how pathetic I am, and my life is. It's an illness. Thoughts that aren't backed up by anything, but they're fed to me by my brain, which I need to be able to trust, and I cannot. Then I guess I cannot, and I'll need to find a way to work around that. Today I woke up, worked out, did my book work, pulled around a twelve hour day at work, spent a couple of hours hanging out with a woman who's starting to mean a fair bit to me. It's a good day I guess. The work out was good too; for some reason my numbers have gone up despite not having worked out in months... maybe I'm just more emotional now, and that's helping? I don't know, you've got to take the small victories I guess. I've got a migraine too, and have had for the past many hours. There's this torrential downpour of horrible thoughts I'm trying to keep at bay, and my head is aching as a result. So I'm losing right now, that's fine, that's part of it. Minimise the damage, and push through, wait until things swing in the other direction and keep building every little positive element of my life that I can to help bring more positive things in. I'll lose if I have to, for as long as I have to, and I'll use that suffering as a driving force to keep me going. Come at me.
  6. MrMisery

    Turning it around

    I lost the fire in my heart many months ago. I've been trying to get it back, to psych myself up and find the drive to keep on going and get to a better day. I thought I had found some place of relative strength, and I became complacent. I've got a million reasons why I'm too weak right now to take this fight. It doesn't matter, life isn't that empathetic. We go back to basics, we take simple wins and build on them. Rise in the am. Do your book work, workout, build on and maintain relationships. Let every step be as hard as it needs to be, but let every step taken be a direct attack upon my illness, and another victory. Let's take this fight.
  7. So, I’m asking for help. I’m going to ask that you don’t judge me, or try too hard to give me advice, this is a fight I’ve been fighting for a very, very long time and this is a life full of the same complexity as any other; I don’t want to be judged on this tiny sliver of it. But I need to talk. I really need to talk. I’ve been battling depression for my entire life. It got pretty bad in my teenage years; a couple of attempts at ending myself, hospitalisation and just about every form of therapy under the sun. With varying degrees of success, and spectacular failure, time went on and I found something resembling balance. At about the same time, my professional life kicked into gear. I worked crazy hours, and pretty quickly started partying like crazy. Basically living at a thousand miles an hour. This sounds like a distraction; it wasn’t like that. I could handle silence and stillness just fine. What it was, was my fighting my demons. Years prior, I’d had a bunch of injuries and could barely function, and spent a good few months hardly leaving the house. Some days it was a battle just to open the blinds and let light in. In time, I realised that by letting the light in, as much as I didn’t want it, it was a direct attack on my depression and that even if it hurt me just as much as it, at least it hurt it. Pretty soon after that (which had taken a very long time), I started applying the same logic to everything I did, and doing things specifically to spite my depression. It was never easy, but it was continuing a battle that otherwise I had only ever been losing. Live at a million miles an hour, when every action is a direct defiance of your greatest challenge. This makes it sound almost glorious; it was not. I basically spent a decade drunk, and under the influence of all sorts of things. But I was paving roads career wise as well. In time, I reached limits that exceeded my idols. Now, I’m doing a dozen things that were once my wildest ambitions; and the problem is that I’m stretched so obscenely thin that it feels like I do nothing but let people down. We’re doing great things, building great things, we’re a positive influence on this little corner of the world… but… whoever the other part of “we” is, in everything I do, gets to deal with a lot of me not being around. That wears on your mind and soul. I’ve always felt like there is something wrong with me that everyone can see; a great big stain on my face that shows I’m the anti-christ; no matter what I do, or who I become. As a result, I’ve spent enormous effort trying to be a better man. I’ve done huge good things for people, and routinely been a support and strength for friends and loved ones, there’s plenty of people in my life who would like to support and help me… but that feels uncomfortable for me. There’s even a couple of people who dare I say it, love me. And that is goddamn mortifying; because I do not deserve it. Do you not see this stain on me, do you not see the horrendous person that I am? Writing this down, the answers all seem obvious. I guess that’s half of the charm. But it’s also deceiving. This is not about answers and reason. This is not about words. I have fought this battle as far as I can, and for longer than I could. My soul is losing it’s will to fight on. I am losing optimism that there is a brighter day coming. I feel that I have run my race, and lost, and I feel, for the first time, that I am facing a battle I cannot fight. I am tired. I have given my all, and been shown by the world that I am unworthy of air, I am unworthy of happiness. I am not one to concede defeat. But damn, if you’d seen the fight until now… I think you’d be throwing the towel in for me, because my body has spent its strength, and will. Edit: Do not take the above as a farewell letter, it's not intended as that. Those are thoughts that have been circling my mind, but that's not what this is meant to be. It's just that I'm tired, very tired, and I'm struggling.
  8. Always at war with the demons of mind. Occasionally, gleefully, convinced that they’re finally gone, only to see them uncaged. My mind is racing in a thousand directions, and the overwhelming majority of them make no sense; incoherent arguments for self destruction, joined by absolute certainty of impending doom. This is beneath me now, surely. I’m not a child anymore; thrown into a world beyond my comprehension, and without the scars of years and the lessons of them too. I have those now, and their weight is both a burden and a blessing on my days. As a man, as family, as a friend, as a professional, I am enriched by these years and things that have broken a younger me, or disasters I would have blindly walked into, are now barely worth a thought. Neither knowledge nor experience seem to matter in the slightest in this fight for my own mind. Paranoia runs rampant, fear and doubt; the weight of sunlight is enough to crush me to powder, let alone the sometimes piercing nature of conversation, and nakedness of accountability. It’s not the things I’ve done that I worry about; though they are many. It’s the things my mind fears that I might have done, in another circumstance, or if I were someone else, or just if. It’s the worst case scenario, and my mind wants to count it as real. Keeping steady breath and thought, showing the confidence and strength that my grown position in life and career demands, is a daily chore and little more, but agonising all the same. It’s an odd, but familiar sensation for most of humanity; I’ve been built and broken, and rebuilt stronger and better so many times. Once it’s my mind, then it’s my body, then money or career, or loved ones; I lost it all, over and over. A life in absence of hope, when the only thing you can count on, is hope. I have rebuilt. I have seen the light; redemption from my sins. I have cleaned up, and left my many addictions behind me. The catastrophes that befell me were not the problem; they were just the symptom of larger issues. Partying and putting everything through your body, and the hubris of thinking you’d accomplished anything. There were awards and ceremonies and celebration of our successes... we were kids, just learning the ropes of adulthood and given too much freedom to explore and test our perceived immortality. We were not immortal; we were kids, out of our minds. I am so very lucky to still be alive, that the small remnants of my life that still remained were more than I could have asked for. I’ve been coming back from that for a long time, so long that I’m doing better now than I was then. There is no area of my life that is not measurably and undeniably better. I am better, better to be around, better for the world around me. I was then on the precipice of self destruction, I am now on the precipice of genuine success; in every measure I had then, but more importantly having a well-rounded, balanced, healthy, productive life. Right now I’m somewhere between the over-confidence and arrogance, and blindness of self perceived success, and the overwhelming paranoia of this illness. It’s dancing on a knife’s edge. I don’t have answers. Just fear and something resembling pride. Why am I so broken, in so many irreparable ways.
  9. MrMisery

    The Inner Workings

    I have suffered from depression, my entire life. I am also an alcoholic in a very extreme sense. To be honest, if you can name an addiction, I've pretty much had it. Part of being young, successful and stupid enough to feel immortal. It all came crashing down recently, as it does. I'm three weeks sober now, and it's all starting to look possible again. A couple of days ago, around midday, I was actually thinking to myself how glad I am for the recent disasters in my life; I'm better off this way, I'm clean and sober because of it all, and there's not a lot I can't do with a couple of years of hard work, and nothing was ever going to amount to anything anyway. Any level of success I would have burned, and any relationship was always guaranteed to fail. Besides, you can't do a lot when every night you're out, and every second night is even bigger. Probably the most damaging addiction I had was booze, I was averaging about 20 standard drinks a day for the past 8 years, but seeing that jump to 30 standard drinks wasn't uncommon. I pulled more all-nighters and rolled into work the next day after stumbling out of a bar 30 minutes earlier, than should be possible. And you know what, it worked. But disaster was always on the horizon, and for the last year or two I kept talking about it, knowing that everything would come crumbling down but just didn't seem to. Then it did. And with the reality that life may be over; I polished my shoes, and went about every day as politely as possible, worked twice as hard and waited to see. Turns out, things will actually be okay. I've dodged a million bullets, through luck and not much else, and I have a chance to rebuild. Also, somehow, I still have my health after all of this. It's a blessing, at the least. So that was it. No more booze. No drugs. Just hard work; give everything and consume nothing. After not having gone more than a day without a drink in 8 years, I suddenly went three weeks without even wanting one. Suddenly my mind and body regarded it as akin to poison. I don't function as well anymore. My mind is a lot clearer, and I feel terrible about all of my memories now that I realise how impaired I was through all of them. I'm eating properly, and working out, working a lot and studying a lot. Three weeks, and I think I'm through most of the withdrawal issues. But... people don't like me as much. I stress more, and I also notice their faults a lot more. I used to kind of just roll with whatever happened, figuring if I woke up in the morning and didn't pi** blood, I was winning. I figured regardless of what happened or what anyone said or did, the world was still spinning and that was more than expected, so I just rolled with it. Now... I see problems, and I see silly issues everywhere. They bother me, and people see that. I've also accidentally distanced myself from the core group of people I used to drink with, and it is useful to spend as much time as we did bonding. I was friends with everyone, because I drank with everyone, or knew someone who knew someone. Now... not so much. I honestly don't want much from life. I want to continue with my career, it is my life's work, and I have lot to contribute to the world through it. And I want to create music, and really any art that I am capable of learning. And I want to be strong and courteous; particularly through hard times, because I think some of the best that any of us have to offer in this life aren't so much our deeds but how we live our daily lives - your strength gives others strength. That's really about it. I suspect in a year or two there'll be more. But for now, all I want is for the world to keep spinning, hopefully with me in it, and to keep doing what I do. But, that seems untenable. I'm a bit of a P**k when sober. The other day something happened. That same day where I had the realisation that I'm happy that all of this has happened, and that I'm better off for it, and that it'll be okay. Something small, inconsequential and routine happened. And that was it. The urge to drink came roaring back. Or to end it all. I didn't really care which, I just knew that I couldn't go on. You spend three weeks working hard to get yourself out of hell, and make some small strides in a positive direction and random, stupid things still happen. It's one extremely hard step forward in three weeks, and a thousand miles backwards in an instant. The reality is much smaller than that, but to my mind in the moment, it was a disaster and I was ready to end it all. It was an overpowering urge. I didn't even drink. And life goes on. It's just not easy. I'm not used to being sober. But I guess I need to learn. Come what may, good or not; it's the only way forward. I ran my race as a drunk and it's done, I can't go back, and don't want to go back. I'm very lucky to have an opportunity to rebuild, though I know it wont be easy.
  10. MrMisery

    6 Word Memoirs

    Lost and broken; lived in defiance.
  11. There is still pain, that much is still true. Though I don't feel lost anymore, and that is empowering beyond measure. I have have lived my life always full of purpose, though everything I've gained has always been corrupted by the feeling that it should have been more, and it should have been more fulfilling. This ever-growing void is something I've been trying very hard to fill with all of my vices. Sex, drugs and alcohol. I'm a workaholic and broke; how does that happen? I feel that hundred hour work weeks for the past decade, and rampant incredibly excessive alcoholism, as well as a bad run of injuries have left my health compromised. After a while, I sat down and prayed to a God I hadn't prayed to in years, largely because I had lost all faith. I realised that of the ten commandments, there were very few I didn't routinely break. I took stock yet again of the people who're regularly hurt by my drinking. Pretty soon I realised just how much I was hurting me, by living as I was. Don't get me wrong, I've spent my life endeavoring to be a good man. Conscience and courtesy are very important to me, and have always been. But it's easy to miss things, even very big things. The human mind is funny like that; if drinking is band-aid, you'll justify it however you have to. I'm just becoming very grateful for every day. Like I said - my health is shot. A month ago I was sitting in a doctor's office coughing up blood, with a broken foot and a nasty STI, that's the kind of a winning combo of independent problems that'll make you think about the way you've been living. I'm doing my absolute best to live every day as best as I can, as silly as it sounds I think there's a certain beauty in right action; I'll treat myself and the world around me gently and with conscious care, and feel good about that. Gradually, in time my health should become very good; but luck is a fickle friend, and you shouldn't count on things going smoothly. I'll live rightly, and let that be enough. There are a few things in this world that are important to me; I am very blessed in my freedom to do my work. I've given enormously in time and blood and sweat to my industry, and it is very kind and accommodating to me these days. It is my life's work, or the beginning of it, and I am allowed to continue on. I am very grateful for that. I want to do bigger and better things, but I understand that the way I've been living has been very destructive, and it'll take time to heal my body, mind, and my life. Once that's done, I'll do bigger things. But there's no deadline. I've been living a very dark life for a long time now, and I don't expect things to turn around on a whim. I honestly never thought I'd write something like all of this. This isn't how I think. You work obscenely hard, you contribute to society, and consume everything. If you want something and can't have it, work harder. That's about it. Contribute and experience. But that's just living as a hamster running a wheel; it's all hard work and emptiness. And a lot of wear and tear, but for you and those who're along for the ride. I don't think it's time to turn a page. I know it is. I feel physically sick to think of how I've been living my life, and terrified of the decaying road that I was on. I'm not saying I have answers now. Things may improve, or they may not. Whatever time I have left, be it a lifetime or a day, I intend to live it in a way of which I'm proud. There's no self medicating. There's no childish partying. That's emptiness, and destruction. It's feeding my illness.
  12. Well, damn it. I guess it’s time to talk. Allow me a strong drink; for I’m an alcoholic, in a very extreme sense. And talking of things, well; it’s going to require some liquid courage. I’m not that old. I’m still young, even. But I feel old; and I think people think of me that way. All I do is work. It’s all about responsibility. I always thought moving up the ladder would offer me more, and I suppose it has, but things have only gotten harder and harder with each passing day and year. The only easy day was yesterday, afterall. But I feel deep within my soul that I am here with purpose – and that requires a little elbow grease. There is so much to do. That’s not why I drink; this isn’t a movie cliché. It’s the real world, and it’s not because of my lifestyle. I love my life, I love what I’ve done with it so far, the people who were once a part of it, and those who still are. I feel like I’ve really got direction, over this past decade or so. My life becomes more fulfilling with every year. In that, I am content. The reason I drink isn’t my life. The truth is that I have an illness. There is a darkness in my life, an overwhelming veil of depression through which I view most days. There are times when all I want to do is to end my life; often for trivial things, even when I know they will pass. I sometimes have to sit down, and just wait it out (although that makes it sound far calmer than it is at the time). Every interaction with another person is tainted with the doubts and fears from my illness. I am deeply paranoid; but knowing this, I can almost always adjust for it. I act normally – but there is a war raging inside. It is very hard to feel good, or to be positive when this is your life. I can be strong and resilient. That’s easy, and ingrained. I can throw out a million positive lines, they and the accompanying smile, are rehearsed and recycled over and over. They come very cheaply, and have no meaning; except for the acknowledgement that we can’t dwell on the negative, or wallow in despair or doubt. There only direction we can go is forwards, and for that we need confidence. I won’t be a source of doubt for others. This is why I start to drink. Let the alcohol flow, and take the edge off a pain that so little else can. Then there are the people, the comradery of misery and addiction. I like people when they’re getting drunk with me at four in the morning, because they’re honest then, and then honest afterwards when they’ve realised I’m human too. I think what gets to me most is the depth of this illness. I’ve been fighting it for a lifetime, and both it, and my understanding of it, have evolved so much over time. I suppose I used to think that it was a symptom of my life. So I changed it, and I built a lot of very positive things within it. What I see now is that it’s a part of me, and it has a deeper influence on my thought processes than I ever expected. I live my life with the acknowledgement that the depression will always be there, and it will always hound me. Every thought has to be adjusted for its influence. It’s tiring, but occasionally offers perspective. I’ve tried every treatment under the sun, and in the absence of salvation, there is only perseverance. Besides, isn’t that just that state of being human? Internal conflict, doubt and confusion; from first breath to last; and a desperate prayer that all of it will lead to growth and understanding.
  13. Is there more? Am I so inept, that this is it? Ideas of bright futures; hopes of better things to come in this life that can only be lived once, all faded to nothing, eroded by the weight of the years. Surely there must be more, there must, somewhere there must be happiness. This isn’t a desperate grasp at optimism; the moment of realisation before the rallying cry. I’m tired, and I’ve been fighting this debilitating illness my entire life, and I am resigned to the idea that it will accompany me till the grave. At the least. I have coped so far, finding strength in all of life’s vices. I’ve done quite well on the back of bad habits; and for a long time I questioned: were these things really bad? For a long time, I didn’t think they were. It wasn’t until the past couple of months that I really took stock of it all and saw just how much damage it had all done. Drinking to get through the day, may get you through the day. Or the year. Maybe that’s a win. But everything that comes from it is poisoned. When everything comes from alcohol, drugs and debauchery; nothing good can exist for very long. Your mind starts going to dark places, even when it otherwise wouldn’t. Now, half a dozen years down this dark road there doesn’t seem any light left in the world; the end of the tunnel is just more blackness. I am a good man, who in order to survive with his mind and his life, made some choices. This has corrupted my world, and I need it to change. I need to change; not for immediate gain, or any gain, but to allow the possibility to hope. There needs to be more to this life. I will only live it once, and there needs to be something of merit within it, a purpose for morals and effort. This isn’t a grasp for optimism. I’m not looking for strength. This is a futile whispering into the wind, of a refusal to fade quietly into the night.
  14. I have lived my life for many things that are deeply important to me. I have done things that I am very proud of, and I would like to think that I have made the world around me a better place. But I am at a low point. I need salvation; whether from the demons of my mind, or from real and genuine life problems, I don't know. I am at a very low point. I feel very alone. I feel like those that appreciate me, don't matter, because they're clearly mistaken. I feel like every problem that may ever happen, is absolute certainty. I'm distraught that those few who love me, really desperately should not. There is no peace here, only a raging and angry beast beating at failings bars in my mind. I do not stand here as a capable and strong man, but as a man with far too many vices and without the will to control his urges. I am not here with optimism and hope, but rather with a bleak and near certain prediction of doom. Is this my downfall? Do I deserve anything else? Am I really the monster that I fear I have become, or does the good outweigh the bad? Can I control my vices, is there even reason to? Or should I just relish in the race to the grave? ... Am I a good man? Or is every intention poisoned by some underlying idiocy and gullibility; am I so ignorant that I damage those around me?
  15. MrMisery

    Social Skills Coaching

    The same as anything, and everything, take small steps. You don't need to be cured tomorrow, you need to be one tiny step closer - that's all. Take it at your own pace, but know that the fact that you showed up at your appointment is a plenty for a start. Keep going, and over time build up your confidence with people and work bit by bit on your social skills. A snails pace will do. Or slower even. Just keep moving in the right direction and you'll get there.
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