At the bottom

I barely made it through the day. I left work and sat at Starbucks. I studied a little. I went to class and clenched my way through the test and the lecture, narrowly avoiding the tears several times. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me? I barely knew this guy. I did NOT love him. I guess it's not really about him. I guess it's about me and how much more I can handle. I don't think I can handle much more, honestly. I am so tired. I feel so very lonely. I am not cut out for this struggle. I am not cut out for being angry or bitter or strong. I'm just so very, very sad. I hear people laughing right now and it just hurts. I don't feel free or alive or in any way happy. Whenever I do, briefly, it feels like I am beaten down, pummeled to the fucking ground. I know. I know. People have been through so much worse. So much worse. But for what? What is the point of suffering through? Please tell me because I am giving up the belief that there is a point to this madness. I just need a fucking week to crawl into my well and sleep. I just don't want to see this ugly world right now.