What is it about me that you hate so much?

IT WAS the start of June, really, that it became glaringly apparent to me that I was at my edge, says Louise O’Neill.

IT WAS the start of June, really, that it became glaringly apparent to me that I was at my edge. From trying to keep on top of my multiple work commitments (note to self, releasing two books and a stage adaptation in a four month window is an act of lunacy ...) and some difficulties in my personal life, it was if I was fighting a war on multiple fronts. I’d suffered from burn-out before, in 2016, and I could see some of the same symptoms beginning to sneak back in.

The propensity for tears that were inconsistent with the situation at hand; the sense of being completely overwhelmed when presented with a new task, no matter how minor, and the struggle to get out of bed in the morning — these were all recognisable to me. The signs were obviously recognisable to those around me, too, which I discovered when I found myself in a restaurant in Dublin, shell-shocked, as my boyfriend and one of my best friends, Niamh, revealed the surprise that they had spent weeks plotting together.