I'm trying to write a covering letter for a job as a PA in theatre. And in between saying that I love theatre (and if that's the case why haven't I seen any for ages) and new writing, and my skills and all that jazz I am trying to overcome the patchiness of my CV, without explaining the illness too much. I've basically spent the last fifteen months doing nothing of use. And it's no use saying I couldn't say I was going to get ill, because if I'd thought more about things last summer I could probably have told that I wasn't doing that well and wasn't going to cope with *anything*. Because I can't fucking cope with anything, at least that's the impression I get from my parents and therapist and social worker, all of whom are terrified of me over committing, and over stressing myself, because apparently I can't cope with stress. And the point where I could, the point where I was an high achiever, lasted about a year and immediately preceded the major craziness. And I want to do stuff. I really want to do stuff. I want to get a degree, I want to get a job that lasts more than three days. People ask me what I'm doing at the moment and I just fluff it. It's depressing.