So it lasted five days...

So it lasted five days; and now I've had enough. Being here is grinding me down. The things which used to annoy me before are annoying me anew, and I just want to get home to Manchester so I can feel better again. In my fingertips and in my head I feel the dull nausea of being confined in a place I have wanted to get away from for years. I wonder if I will stay away once I'm back: I see less and less to be gained by anyone in my return. It feels like all the effort I have spent building myself up is being systematically undone, like a ball of wool being inevitably kicked down a staircase. If I come back each summer I will feel like Sisyphus, doomed to begin pushing his boulder up his hill time and time again. It hurts my head. Never do I want to hurt anyone, never do I want to put anyone in an unnecessarily unhappy position. But this is the only place that does this to me; this is the only place where the same things happen, and the same things get to me. Sometimes not every problem has an amicable solution.