Tick, Tick, Tick

I am exhausted. Every inch of me aches as though I have run for a lifetime. I find it hard to do the mundane, everyday tasks; brush my hair, clean my teeth, go to work. Everything is an effort. Everyone intimidates me. Every second I want to cry.
I try to work hard. If I can distract myself from the increasing heaviness within, perhaps I may just make it to the end. But it always finds a way to creep back. The few minutes of searching through the storeroom, the break of silence between morning tea chatter, the solitude of making fresh sheets into a bed. It never really goes away, and I'm frightened it never will. How can anyone live like this?
And if there's anything I hate as much as this feeling, it's the silence when I just stop. It reminds me how alone I have become. Perhaps more lonely than anything, and I wish I could break it with a hug, a cry and a cup of tea like I used to. But things are different now, the void is deeper and more mature than before. I want to fill it up with people and parties to cover the silence, but no amount of champagne or entertainment will ever be enough. I don't know what will?