I don’t want to talk to you.
More than anything I don’t want to talk to you.
But more than anything, all I want is to talk to you…
I know you understand.
Or maybe, in my head you understand, and that’s how I want it to be. How I wanted it to be. And maybe it never was that way? Why don’t I know the answer to that?
I don’t understand how I feel.
Is this how grief feels?
There’s an anxiety that won’t leave me alone. It sits in my chest, makes me eat rubbish and fills me with self-loathing.
I don’t know how to be kind to myself. Is that something that can be learnt?
I don’t know how to be in this place. This place that feels like madness, and consistently kicks and screams it’s way out of me, through tears, angst, eating, shouting…none of which helps.
So, tell me, what do I do?