So am not usually a retweeter of others' work but this captured me. The post in its entirety can be found here.

You’re in a doctor’s room, surrounded by coughing, sneezing people. You idly chat away on Twitter. It’s how you keep in touch with friends now that you’ve become so withdrawn. You can’t bear to meet anybody’s gaze and when you finally get to see the doctor, your heart sinks as he asks question after question about symptoms, how you’re responding, how’s your diet. he takes your blood pressure. It’s far too high.

You’re seeing a counsellor. They ask you about your family. They ask you about your childhood. You smile inwardly as you realize what an odd little duck you were back then. Mostly, however, you can’t stand to here – why would you ever want to talk about yourself? You can’t even bear to make eye-contact with the counsellor. You smile, nod, make the right sounds. You make another appointment.

You don’t turn up. It’s too far away. You have meetings. You don’t have enough energy.

So there you are. You’re on the couch, crying. For want of a better word, all you feel is a a deep, hollow pain. You can’t bear to have anyone around you, but at the same time you feel so damn alone. You don’t know how you’re going to get through the rest of the day. You can’t think your way out of this. You can’t think. Nothing’s working. A breakdown.