I am nothing if not consistent in failing others' expectations. Even my own.

[ "Human things." As if what plagued him was common among humanity. Sherlock shakes his head at the thought. Dear Lord, he hopes that isn't the case. He wouldn't want his worst enemy to go through what he is. ]

The only real fix I can see is keeping myself focused on the task at hand as if my efforts will somehow pull myself out of these bloody waters to find a shore upon which the truth is buried, and X rarely marks the spot.