9am Waking up after 12 hours in bed, please go to sleep, please go back to sleep, please please please go back to sleep going back to sleep or just taking it away on my dream of something wonderful exciting.

I get up I’m on my own Susan still sleeping Wake up with screaming in your belly, fuzzing in my head ready to vomit desperately trying to turn get some positivity my head from deadly to decent I walk up the stairs looking at the loft hatch thinking of the beams that lurk up high, feel the rope knotted tight around my neck, breathless ready to launch over the banister!!!!
“Good morning” says Susan, what’s wrong with you, cheer up.

She does not know what’s in my head.

My head says NO it’s not good, what could be good, I return the nicest, “Morning”, I never say GOOD. What a day is gonna be

10:30 Just want to throw up, My teeth grind. Maybe a sweet, very sweet coffee will help.

Off into the lounge to try and hide all I feel

11am Susan is getting naggy as she says I’m a moody man

Trying to smile, trying to be normal and bright. Got to find something to do.

12:00 Argument over an oat milk maker. Started getting chest pains, maybe this is it, finally get out of it. No doubt it is just indigestion.

So the argument settles down and Susan who’s got the ‘empathy of a brick’ realises she doesn’t think I’m a miserable twat

No one, no one, anyone ever recognises that you are having a mental issue. Fully hidden deadly disease.

I won’t describe the multiple ways I have thought about committing suicide but they’re all here tonight, going round and round and round I can see a large dose of diazepam coming tonight, just to block the day away.

20:30 I’m sitting downstairs on my own will I be thinking about the rope or a plastic bag or the tablets for just jumping under a bus.