Back in the void

When it comes back, it's like a burning in my throat. It spreads through my body from my chest like a fire. It's consuming everything. I recognise its work but I feel powerless to quench the flames. I know I'm not alone, but I don't know I'm not alone. 

I comfort eat. I cry. I enjoy the cold biting at my hands when I'm outside. 

I want to throw up. To get it out, to get it all out. To get out the bits I can't cry out. 

It's so visceral. As I push up from the ground a void opens up beneath me. My arms push me away, but my heart strains to leap inside. 

I want to wake up tomorrow and be ok. The light at the end of the tunnel seems so slight, so minuscule that I feel as though I'm imagining it. It's not hope, but a speck of dust in my eye.