Twenty-six. Broke. Living with my parents. Jobless. Single. Lonely. Completely discontent and broken. The last two days I've been on the verge of tears every minute, skulking around the house trying desperately to avoid anyone, to no avail. And when they ask what's wrong, my automated response: "Sorry, I'm just not myself today". Because how do you tell your family that living with them means you've failed?
My life feels a bit like this at the moment: