"Some mornings I lay in bed with my eyes closed because I'm genuinely scared to open them."

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(No picture today)

Things have become overwhelming, overpowering, and overall overbearing. Work being the biggest demon I must do battle with. Now everyone has complaints about their jobs, but I feel like on some level I'm not complaining. I'm merely stating? Regardless, I love my job and would not trade it for the world. But I am the only one running an entire department. So much is being asked of me within so little time that it would take an inhuman amount of stamina to complete every single given task. But this is what is expected of me. I've been handed so much that I've fallen behind further than I ever have before. Conditions are deplorable and I am exhausted. I walk through those doors and a sudden wave of nausea washes over me. Sometimes I'll duck down behind my counter and cry. Pathetic? Not really. You'd be doing it too. I'm giving it everything I've got and it's not enough. Frustrating is an understatement. And at home my mother cries more than ever, my sister screams, and my brother snaps. My father won't acknowledge me. He won't talk to me, he won't look at me. It's as if I don't even exist. It feels like my world is crumbling down around me faster and faster with each passing second. And myself? I'm caught tumbling down into some bottomless abyss with the bricks and dust and debris. When I read back what I have just written I feel ashamed. What is becoming of me?