Out of the blue
I hate this feeling. I hate it so much because it doesn't even feel like a feeling anymore; it just feels like who i am. I'm this broken human sitting on the floor in her basement. At this same moment, other people are probably having dinner, traveling with their loved ones, reading a great book, or laughing with their best friends. I bet they're all doing something amazing. But not me. Instead I'm curled up in a ball leaning against the bar in my basement, with my face in my hands. I can't stop crying. I can't control my breathing. I'm powerless against the whirlwind of negative thoughts and angry voices that are constantly assaulting me.
Was reading Lilly Singh's book and came across this paragraph. It's crazy how it reasonates with what I'm feeling right now.