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Nerves have been shredded and emotions put through the spin cycle by our stoppage time specialists.

Hearts have been pumping away like the bass bins at Glastonbury and bruising rib cages from the inside.

Last gasp goals against MK Dons, Hull, Reading and now Bolton. Pulsating fight-backs. Injury time implosions at Bristol and Rotherham. Dramatic rearguard actions to cling on desperately. Boro never do anything the easy way.

Every game has now become an emotional assault course with every kind of possible psychic challenge scattered haphazardly over the 90 minutes.

Go a goal down to the already relegated Championship zombie club in the most one-sided game the bookies have priced all year? With an assist from football pensioner and long time Nemesis Emile Heskey? Of course.

String of missed sitters, bar and post rattled and new standard scientific units of measurement needed to quantify exactly how narrowly they miss in order to add fresh torture to the travelling fans? Naturally.

A helpline for distressed supporters who have been affected by any of the issues raised in this game? Its not a bad idea.

A lifetime’s worth of football agony and ecstasy has been compressed into one draining year, then distilled and injected back into us in increasing quantities on matchday.

My central nervous system has been going full pelt since January and there is no sign of any let up.

And it is Burnley next. Title rivals. And a game where there is a frisson of antagonism between the camps. It would be a very tense top of the table tussle and we’d travel crackling with tension in a normal season.

But that will be emotional magnified because we are all neurotic and strung out after a bruising campaign in which we have had all normal responses eroded and left broken down and left on the verge of constant hysteria.

It is a cross between being brainwashed by a cult and Stockholm syndrome, the process by which hostages begin to identify with their kidnappers and then finally see their fates inextricably entwined.

That’s us all now. We have been cruelly beaten and mentally tortured by the team but will follow them to the ends of the earth anyway. If we can get tickets.

What a masochistic experience this season has turned into. And I am loving it. Seriously. I am tingling all the time and subject to sporadic smiles so wide I have to turn sidewards to get through doors. And terrors. The fear of failure.

But I’m loving it. Boro have turned us all into adrenaline junkies, sending senses into overdrive and plunging us onto wild roller-coaster rides by the week.

They knew what they were doing when they teamed up with Flamingo Land.

Whatever happens from here this has been an incredible ‘scream if you want to go faster’ season. Demanding. Draining. But brilliant. And rewarding. We’ve had so many highs already and the best is yet to come. Or worse. It is going to get more even more intense.

The fans at the Reebok – or whatever it is called now – were right in the heart of the maelstrom. They felt the full force of the psychic switchback.

They started on an incredible high, an awesome sight and sound, totally dominating the sonic landscape, pumped up on pride and passion and total belief in victory.

But the with the team falling flat in a sloppy and nervous first half that energy ebbed away and as Bolton started to press and look dangerous a vacuum opened and sucked in all the dark historic fears.

The Bolton goal left Boro a bag of nerves, all drawn faces, swearing and palpitations, flinching with every attack and preparing for the kick in the teeth that is our birth right.

But the leveller sparked a sustained spell of attacking and the noise, the intensity of the passion, the sheer force of will power on the pitch ramped up the red roar.

And the ear-bursting explosion – part joy, part redemption, part relief - when the winner was rammed home was simply breath-taking.

There were spontaneous screams of pure joy and stranger-hugging EIO glee and a sonic of renewed belief.

That will get us through. That belief on and off the pitch, that will power to get through games no mater what.

It will leave us drained come May, but it’ll get us through.