It was at first a senseless dream, really.. Then all of a sudden, it became an agonising nightmare. One that felt like I was grating off my own finger or peeling off my own skin. It was the worst nightmare I'd ever had.

What was so awful about it? I think it managed to touch on every single one of my insecurities and remind me how things are/could be. There was no one who could help me. No one who could understand. No one who could offer me the slightest bit of comfort.

Which is as it would be in such a situation. I'd drown in my own sorrow. Jump off a building. Stick a knife in my chest. Run onto a freeway. Lie in the train tracks. Anything to end my agony.

Then my eyes open. It is bright. Yet I realise that I have woken from one nightmare into another. There is no escaping. More bad news. Then no news at all. I don't know what's worse. Too wary to get out of bed. Too traumatised to fall back asleep.

I said I wouldn't cry anymore.