This week, I am not coping. With anything. Right now I should be at work, but I am in bed, still in my work clothes, curtains closed, light off. There are tears, and there is pain. I am hurting.
The worst thing is that my life is going wonderfully. I have it all. The job, the friends, the flat, the boy. This week, though, it is not enough. I am empty.. or overflowing, perhaps. I can't tell. I don't want to tell. I just want to hide under my duvet and listen to the rain and hope that my mind drifts elsewhere. Anywhere.
I know it seems ungrateful. I know it seems dreadfully first-world. The inescapable fact, though, is that right now, I am not okay.
My head is full of lead and my soul is just a hole.