The barren soul

My heart is gripped in a vice; my mind is confused, addled and disjointed, thoughts come and go again like the ebb of the tide. I am not well.
The back garden is going on at a steady pace; the allotment lies there untended but with promise; there are stunningly beautiful, delicate blossoms on the cherry tree, now planted in her own raised, walled bed.  There is a random little tete-a-tete that has survived the housing development and is showing her bowed, shy, yet joyously bright tiny head in the midst of the trampled grass and dust of our equally tiny front garden.
But I can't even work out how to get myself from this spot to the cameras, from there to the leads and do the uploading, to show you these things that ought to be making me happy. But which are not.
I have hit a wall, fallen down a well, had a smack to the face with a large shovel. This morning I felt ok, good even but at 12.25pm I crashed and I can barely cope.
I don't know what to do. But I needed to talk, to cry out for love from this vast world so full of people yet so filled with loneliness. I guess I just want you to know I am here.