It is no surprise, really, that if you take away the fear and vain attempts to manage an unmanageable world, the original trigger remains. It makes sense that it persists, only without blinders to obscure the view.
My life used to be a series of limitations and ruminations, but I shed those skins. I thought I would never be able to get out from under them, but now I travel, I plan, I make decisions without feeling the weight of the entire world. That's great, right? But I always thought that if I could rid my life of those things, everything else would be fine.
I think this is a lesson to us all in a world where we expect either a pill to fix everything, a book packed with catchy slogans to have the answers, or a bald Texan on TV asking, "and how's that workin' for ya?" to change your life.
Problems don't just dissapear. They never will. You can't spray your life with an antibacterial cleaner. They might not be as big as you thought, and you might not need to spend your life in a defensive stance, but problems persist.
Like the monster at the end of the book, maybe I will discover that the vastness of my great abyss was but an illusion.