Dear readers,

As a young girl, I dreamt of being somebody. As an adult, all my dreams lay crumbling on my feet as I realise the bitter reality that I am no one; nobody.

I thought that this sadness; this despair that I felt inside of me would magically go away. Try as I might, I experience bouts of it. Sometimes, it leaves and sometimes, it comes back and stays for too long like an unwelcome aunt.

Today it arrives with a bang! A dull pain at the back of my head and I’m rushing to bend over the toilet as I throw up guilt, frustration, and hopelessness…but the despair- it never gets emptied out. It stays as a remnant in my stomach, slowly seeping to other areas of my body. It is ice cold. It grips me inside like a vice threatening to never let go…and I let it. I am drained of any energy, any emotion, any light…I let it consume me because I am tired. I am tired of fighting. I am tired of fighting alone.

I surrender to my bed and arm myself against the voices with a soft, furry friend. I cry on my dog and she sighs. She lets me because I have no one else to turn to. The onslaught continues…”You’ll never be good enough!”, “Nobody likes you.”, “You are worthless.”

I let myself believe that they are right somehow. I know that perhaps this time they will win…and they will stay far too long like victors at a bloody battlefront having a drunken feast. They will laugh, and drink, and talk about their great conquest…and I will lie still and wait till they are bored of me…wait till I replenish my energy…wait till I have some peace even if it means that I cease to exist.

Seconds feel like hours in this war. My body longs for a ceasefire…but my mind…my mind is lost as a sheep that wandered too far from its flock and got devoured by a hungry wolf. Seconds feel like a lifetime in this war. I brace myself against the steel cold and await my fate.

“Only the dead have seen the end of war.” – Plato