I want to go home. Where ever that is.

My heart is heavy most of the times. I can feel its weight. Nothing interests me anymore, chores, job, the hair on my body which is left untouched for the last few months or my colleagues who no longer invite me to lunch. Uber rides that I used to enjoy are now mired in self-pity. I am tired most of the time, signs of insomnia and malnutrition showing. Anxiety attacks are now part of my routine.

I lost everyone that I considered family. People I trusted, cared for and was fiercely loyal to. On a fateful night when everything went horribly wrong. The love of my life walked away along with everyone else I knew and cared for. What doesn't help is knowing that it's my fault.

I live in a country where I know no one. Where I lived a third of my life but now its like I don't belong. I want to go home. To feel safe. To feel anything but what I am feeling now.