Also, the people I work with. (I'm a kitchen bitch, 'chef' if you prefer). I don't communicate about my problems, and usually I cope fine at work, but some days, like yesterday, I just can't. Can't look at anyone, can't speak, can't smile. Can barely contain the loathing.
And they're So. Fucking. Patient. They've asked, they've offered all the help they can think of. They've got the message that I'm just not going to talk about it. And now, when I go down the hole they just put up with my shit. They find the filthiest jokes they can, and bring them to me as gifts. When I climb back out, they tell me they're glad I'm back and I try not to cry.