Strange places

It can happen to even the happiest of persons. Stuff and Things pile up, and they mix with a wretched cocktail of hormones that have lost their climate control. I fall into a place. There are no windows. No doors. No one to share the Stuff... and Things... I am all alone in a world of full of people. And with all the people, I could stop being alone if I could open my mouth and say, "help."

But I don't want to. 

Because what would it mean? I'm just sad AGAIN? Annoyingly glum? Crazy? Weak? Broken? Bad investment? Attention whore?

It's a strange place. And it's familiar at the same time.