like a bell jar

I feel, a lot of times, as if I am made of glass. And hollow on the inside. I am simultaneously dumb and reverberating violently. 

Days would glide by in which I think, I am finally okay. And then, without warning, they clump together again. Like today, and yesterday, and the day before that. 

By the grace of God, one day, perhaps one day, I can finally look back and be thankful that I did not give up. For now, I am so frustrated at myself for being so irrationally weak.