One hundred and eleven words: Affection with madness

I've found myself wondering what it feels like to lose one's mind.

Heaven knows I've been on the verge, but I might just not have been ready. Or brave. Or fed up. Or whatever it takes.

But I am wondering.

Is it a feeling of freedom? Relief? Letting go of fear, worries and responsibility, of consequences and boundaries, regimes, regulations and norms?

Does one finally give in to insomnia, restlessness, control freaks, the fucking system and all the unfairness that drives us mad?

As I lay in my bed, listening to the constant wreckage, banging, yelling, barking and the world and I wonder how far from the edge I actually am.