I sit on the sofa and I rock back and forth, over and over. It's soothing somehow. I don't understand how. But you know it doesn't make it stop. I don't know why it makes it better but it does.
Every now and then I can stop and I can watch the TV and cry just a little bit and it makes it better. I can look around my flat and I can not hate myself.
I can see dirty dishes that need to be washed. I can see all of the cat hair. I can see that I have a problem; I know that I can fix it. Right now I choose not to but that doesn't mean that I can't. That doesn't mean that I can't. I can. I'm in control, but I will put it all to one side because that means I have freedom and I can choose.
I can choose to be happy and clean and tidy or I can choose to live with it for now. Not for long, just for now.
It will all go away in the end.