I am Imprisoned by life. My life circumstances stop me from escaping. 

I used to think that suicidal thoughts were a coping mechanism, they are not, they are just a way of life now. At some point I will be free to finally go to sleep

I feel very, very low, very tearful, on the point of despair. 

What’s the point

I cannot do it for much longer. Pretending to hold it all together

My daily physical pain can be detrimental to my mental  condition. 

My PTSD affects my quality of sleep which makes me tired physically and mentally. Exhausted!

I am a resentful carer. Patient in the next bed

I wake feeling sick to the core even vomity with anxiety

Apparently I fight in my sleep, punching and swearing 

All this concealing, hiding, pretending absolutely exhausting

Note: This was how I was on the day I wrote this. I keep it for reflection and content for others