It is a different mountain to climb now that you are older. How easy it was to write out your version of the truth the way you wanted to see it back then. How dangerous the world could had been if you were not careful enough. Maybe being so caught up in your own pain and darkness made everything else unclear which protected you from greater harm and regrets. If you could had felt so much then, wouldn't she have that same chance of feeling all that too when it is her turn? Could it be a lot worse? And that would be even scarier than what you had went through. You had literature, words, songs and you were disconnected from the world. With simpler human beings as strangers with lesser motives and complications. 

Another stock take of the here and now. How you have to make another decision to change the gear of your life and its direction. How did you break this time? The demands? The expectations? The exhaustion? The fall? The hospital? The paralyzing guilt and fear of being absolutely out of your depth? You drowned and hated every minute in that building with all those puppets. How did you end up here again?