I think I’m slowing losing my mind.

I mean, we’ve all said it aloud more than a handful of times in our lives, right?

I’m going crazy!

And then you fill in the reasons why after you proclaim, passionately and desperately, the above.

Except, I really believe that the stress and anxiety of startup can move you to absolute madness if not managed well. I think it’s even happening to me; I even told my most trusted friend last night that I feel like I’m experiencing a slow descent into madness.

She didn’t take that too well.

I think this is viscerally apparent to me, now, because of the recent and wonderful vacation and how much I needed a break from my own, little, insane reality.

But, I’m not sure how I can ever divorce myself from my own brain, from the very mind that allows me to do what I do. You see, even as I lose it I am also profiting immensely from the work that it does.

Sometimes I’m not even sure if I’m in complete control of it.

All of this reminds me of a Nobel Prize Winner of Literature, André Gide, who once said:

The most beautiful things are those that are whispered by madness and written down by reason. We must steer a course between the two, close to madness in our dreams, but close to reason in our writing.

As each day comes into its own, simple end and as I get closer to the world of darkness and dreams, I find that I lose more and more of my grip on the fabric of this plane and slide into another one entirely, where everything seems eerily disconnected.

And as the sun rises, the fog of war ever so slowly dissipates and, on occasion, what I find in the in-between, the thin veil that separates madness and reason, is a sliver of hope.

It’s enough to get up and get going – there is great and important work to be done.