The last three months have been hard. Harder than any I've had since that time in Edinburgh. I thought that I was a stronger person than I am. That I could make these sacrifices for a year or two to get myself sorted but I can't.
I'm miserable. Whilst I know that no job is worth crying over every day and no career is worth the constant swirl of nausea in my stomach and the sleepless nights; Whilst I'm fully aware that this thing is not worth fracturing relationships for, it's still really, really hard to walk away. To become a failure at yet something else. To admit defeat.