There are no words to describe the exhaustion, fatigue and overwhelming overwhelm that has come over me. I sleep, and it gets worse. I stay up, and it doesn't matter. The cloud that followed me, and only rained on my head before has become a foggy shroud.
I function... I go to work, get my job done, get my ideas together, get the day-to-day done... colleagues are none-for-the-wiser. I don't really see myself as having a real family, so they are as oblivious as I choose them to be, which is pretty oblivious, as I really could care less what they think.
The people that I do consider my family aren't really. And those that I did, well, I don't think that I can.
I find that what I relied on being familiar is in fact, nothing but cardboard cutouts. That I clung to locations and places and things as being "rocks", when they crumble in my hands when touched and sift between my fingers.
Nothing "real" around me was real in the first place, was it?
And that which isn't real, is?
My office is my home. My home is more draining than my office. My desk, my computer have become my bed, and my bed, which I haven't been able to sleep in for months, is a tomb.
Everything good is now tainted. Every hope I had for myself is now a haunting. Invaded by memories and wishes of him.
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