Not quite holding things together

Dad came round for breakfast. I was making him a bacon sandwich. I lit the wrong hob and melted my toaster, as apposed to cooking the bacon. Dad made himself a bacon sandwich, and one for me, and complained that he could have had a bacon sandwich at home if he was going to make it himself. Didn’t eat much of my bacon sandwich. Feel sick.

My brain has slowed right down. I’m pretty sure I've had a nervous breakdown. I am so tired. Exhausted. But I want to stay awake. I want to get better. I just thought I saw a black shadow in the window. Washing machine is doing my head in. I need quiet. At least I’ve finally put the washing on though stormy outside. How can I feel so scared when I have 2 locks on my door, a lock on the front door? I need to close and lock all the windows. I don’t even like to walk around my home incase I cause a disturbance or got noticed. I want a cup of tea. Keep forgetting how to make one. Will have to boil the kettle and stand next to it.

Made a cup of tea.

Just spilt it down my freshly laundered, fluffy, clean dressing gown. What is the point in washing? We’re only going to get dirty again.

Have Bert and Ernie for company. Its nice how they seem to love me so much. They get me. Wonder how friends are getting on camping. Still gutted I couldn’t go. Not because I wish I was there, because I don’t, but just to prove myself and everyone wrong. Not that they need proving wrong, or that I should even give a shit as much as I do. I can function normally.
Except I can’t. I’m trying, but I cant. And I want to be able to.
But the truth is, I am glad im not with them, I am happier in my flat. Tucked away, hidden.