I woke up at 2am and am alone. It has been almost three hours since and I can’t get back to sleep.

Unfortunately, I woke ML when I messaged and said that she wasn’t home. I am in a house alone with no one. I am in no condition to be anything but a burden to anyone.

The other day I stood on the edge of a rooftop and considered what it would be like to just disappear. Not suicidal thoughts. Just thoughts about running away. Sometimes I wish the last 3 years never happened.

I can only think of one thing that made me happy during those years and the sad realisation that it is useless and wrong comes up.

I don’t know what I want anymore. Maybe that’s wrong. I want to be happy. Is that wrong? I seem to always want to make everyone else happy. What about me?

ML kept reminding me all night not to do something stupid. What if I already have? Would I have done things differently?

I need to escape.

This used to be my loft – a place to relax. Now it is my refuge. A place I turn to because I have nowhere else to go. Where my innermost thoughts can roam free, unleashed and unburdened. But like any refuge, coming back out of it doesn’t mean that the problem is gone. It is still there. It allows you time to change to suit the problem.

But what if the problem is so multi-faceted that you can’t cope? What if your support structure is crumbling beneath you? What if you just want to run away?