Prisoner

I feel like a prisoner in my own house (or rather small flat). I didn’t go out last night, I didn’t want to see ‘the woman’. I knew I could easily lose control (in a wimpish crying sort of way, as opposed to an aggressive sort of way), if I saw her. I don’t want to go out anywhere really, just in case I bump into her, or anyone of my ex boyfriends family. I don’t want them to see the tears, that will come if I see any of them.

I feel trapped, not only in my home, but in this low emotional state. I’m getting on with writing thou, I am determined that this low mood won’t jeopardise my course. Luckily the feature I have to write for next week, is on Ginger, and as alternative remedies and health is an area I have a lot of knowledge about, this won’t be too difficult.