I may not have much empathy for others but, in fairness, I have none for myself either. I knew I was taking on too much and, at some level, I knew I was miserable. That’s not to say there weren’t plenty of times in the last two years that I was happy. But when you’re exhausted and depressed there is a strange divide. You know you should be feeling happy, you can tell yourself, ‘Now I am happy,’ but the experience is somehow artificial, unreal. I stood on the edges of my emotions. And I stood on the edges of myself. And I couldn’t tell anyone. Because to have told anyone, to have said the word
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