Just when I think things are going well the urge to go play in traffic and/or the compulsion to play Death-By-Chocolate reasserts it’s self into my consciousness. What’s really frustrating is I’ve made the decision to go down another step on the Lexapro and now because of these ugly specters I’m second guessing my recovery in general and abstract. I’m still going to reduce, of course. I won’t know that I’ll unravel unless I start pulling at the threads holding me together. I can always go back up if I find myself standing in the middle of the street.