Enough to push me over the edge

So I get home with my groceries, being in public is awful and stressful enough as it is, set the bags on my kitchen table and as soon as I turn around crack!..The evening’s bottle of red wine hits the tiled floor, wine everywhere I used all the paper towels I had trying to clean it up. That was enough to put me over the edge…I couldn’t deal with life as it was, something out there wants me dead, I have no one to talk to, and there goes a night of drinking wine and watching movies.

My nerves are shot, my sense of identity fractured to the point of near non-existence and I’m broken like my g-damn $10 bottle of wine. I hate this world.