My life is fine. No harder than anyone else's much easier than some.
I'm broken. I've spent all night waking up in panic every hour or so. I'm throwing up this morning and I'm crying and crying and crying.
I've broken. It's been coming for a while. I've been soldiering on and squashing it down. The anxiety has been building. The sense of dread gradually taking me over.
Everything is such an effort. Doing the school run feels like climbing a mountain. The laundry isn't getting done. I am starting not to wash because it's too much hard work.
But there's nothing wrong. Why can't I pull myself together?