Boilers

Well, it still hurts, and my friends are probably still bored of it all.

This whole business is teaching me some funny things about stuff (he said in his very specfic manner). For example, on the days where my whole world has tipped and lurched I've stood on the train, wrapped in music and thought, inches from other commuters. I've come into the office, drunk coffee with my co-workers, had slightly productive days and gone home again. In short I've done all the things that were expected of me, and almost nobody noticed that inside me all was confusion and upset.

I'm not upset that no-one noticed, why should they, the manic, panicked knot that twists my stomach and addles my mind does not translate to a glint in my eye or unusally crazy hair. But it's made me wonder how many other people, people I can see now, people I'll see walking across a station concourse, buying drinks at a bar, queuing for a till in Marks and Spencers look to be fine and yet inside are questioning everything in their world, wondering where life will go next, how they'll get through the next week or month.

It's a bit humbling.