What can YOU say in six sentences?
It's been one week since Cyril died and there was all this grief after his death that my head dealt with perfectly fine but my stomach and my eyes and my heart could not handle; this tidal wave of fear rolling over me as I struggled to comprehend what it meant to not exist anymore - all the while feeling so angry that I had to feel anything at all.
Long ago, I decided that being a human was too hard, too painful. I decided I was incapable of feeling, incapable of articulating, of doing, of breathing, of existing. I thought I was too much of everything. Too scared, too emotional, too intense, too needy, too dependent, too independent, too quiet, too loud, too rambly, too awkward, too outspoken, too upfront, too verbose, too honest, too much too much too much.
And what a crushing realisation it was to establish that this is it, this is life, this is how it is and I can either take it or leave it: I intend on taking it ... and running far, far away.