I still catch myself thinking my problems are unique, even after watching nebulae birthed and crushed in the same breath. It's like knowing intellectually that every wave is part of the ocean, yet still feeling bruised when one crashes over me. The trick, I guess, is remembering the ocean is still there when the sand settles. I spent so long believing my suffering was a badge of honor, a sign of my specialness. Now I just see it as wasted time, time I could have spent actually LIVING instead of performing misery.