Why [rev] Poem by Margaret Alice Second

Let me sigh - I've lost such a lot of time;
the weekend fell into a hole and Monday
became a torturous spiral folding in upon
itself - capacity to feel is gone leaving a
gap in interest, heaviness in my head &
dissatisfaction with my surrounds, now I
know how a cup of bitter tea feels, how
flat and stale without taste, burning and
hurting the stomach - that is how I feel,
so how can I live experiencing this? Its
beyond awful to feel so heavy and dead
where nothing seems worthwhile, luckily
there is my discipline to keep me going -
knowing if I want to sleep & eat, I've got
to keep up appearances: fake it until I
make it - why do people have so much
joie de vivre while there's nothing in me?