Enough

Six straight nights of wracking nightmares. (More wracking that usual, that is.)

Horrible, aching grief. I miss Micawber so badly right now.

Too much work. Far, far too much work. Overworked, stressed, my self-esteem eroded, panic singing a song only dogs can hear down all my nerves.

Confusion of identity.

Patches of high functionality interleaved with pure breakdown.

Mental whiplash.

The weak vessel

( I thought I was past the point in my life where I cried... )