I Feel Rough

Physically.

Mentally.

Emotionally.

I have no energy. No vigour. No intensity in the way I move and think.

And that hurts me. It hurts me that I have to struggle.

And before you say anything, no! This isn’t a hangover! It’s a much more deeper feeling than that. It’s that feeling of melancholy. That feeling of being utterly destroyed. And beaten.

This feeling isn’t new to me however. I’ve had this before, much worse than now, and I’ve tackled it. I’ve survived shit. Just like you. And him. And her. And I will probably survive shit again in all fairness.

But this time is different. This time I don’t just want to “survive”. I want more.

And that makes me smile.

Smile.

         Grin.

                      Show me those pearly whites.

Let those happy endorphins flood into your brain. Maybe even have a bar of chocolate to help them along.