Currently reading The Heretic’s Daughter by Kathleen Kent and I should be receiving my next Amazon parcel by Tuesday (:
Will be doing things that ensures my mind is kept at ease. And trying to keep myself out of the public. I have gotten to the point where I could just break down and cry. Where I need my sister’s presence, a friend’s ears, or Mama’s hug. I’m leaving for South Shields tomorrow, and off to York on Wednesday and London on Thursday and will be back on the 19th and then? I don’t know. I am very much hoping all my troubles would go away.
I’ve been fragile, and bruised? Shall get back to my solid self, and by then I shall get back on my usual track. And for now I just need isolation from anything that could break me. In between, to pick up the strength I have shattered unknowingly. I have never felt this weak before, let’s not shed any more tears. I am so emotionally tired, exhausted. To the extent that I cannot even sing along to my favourite song without trying to drown its words into a sea of noise, or to be touched by words of comfort without trying to hold back tears or to see a love scene from a movie without turning my head away.