I have gone through serotonin withdrawal syndrome more times than I can count. A few times, I have experienced uncontrollable crying: waterfalls of tears, my chest aching as I stifle my sobs. The anguish bursting out of the deepest place in my soul–geysers of grief, convulsing my body because it cannot hold back the empty, consuming sadness.
I watched The Book Thief, and the young actress looked so much like my daughter, especially in the early parts of the film, that my crying shook the bed.
Of the things that I have lost, not speaking to my daughter for over four years is likely the most painful.
