Some of you may have noticed that I've not been on Twitter since last Thursday. I woke up to the result on Friday and I decided I just couldn't face social media. I was afraid of what I might read and of what I might say, or indeed might not say.
I saw an alert on my phone early on Friday morning. I squinted at the BBC News in the vain I hope I might have misread the message.
I felt numb. Later I was to feel like I'd been bereaved. Then angry and for the first time in my life, ashamed to be English.
To me, the decision to leave the EU is like your partner asking you to visit Beachy Head. Only instead of the walk along the cliffs and the prospect of an ice cream that you think you've signed up for, they grab your hand and pull you over the cliff with them in a terrible suicide pact. All you can think of in the few moments you have left is "But I didn't want this".
I work in the financial services industry and it was easy to predict what would follow. I wasn't surprised by the millions wiped off my company's and many others share prices, sterling in free fall, gilt yields tumbling, basically a cataclysmic event with all the potential to be worse than the fallout from Lehman Brothers. One which ironically could cost more than 24 years of EU subscriptions.
As the country's credit rating started to be downgraded, by serious institutions such as Moodys and Standard and Poors. I felt sick to think that any money saved by quitting the EU would be eaten up by servicing more expensive loans.
It also wasn't a shock to me when I heard the back pedalling regarding the leave advert. I tweeted a while back about the disingenuous advert saying Britain "could" build a hospital a week with the money it cost to be in the EU... I said that it would never happen. After all, this statement was coming from the far right, who has done nothing but hamstring and dismantle the NHS, so the statement was never anything more than an analogy.
What made me angry, really angry, was when Cameron resigned. Again, not unexpected, but the man who put us all in this absurd position, doesn't even have the balls to invoke Article 50. No, he's left that poisoned chalice to his successor - another political game. Win-win for David. If his successor invokes the article it's all their fault and they become hated. If they don't, then they become the person that failed to listen to the people of Britain. Very clever, except we have to live in uncertainty until October or whenever he shuffles off to his peerage, non-executive directorships and house in the country.
On the Saturday I was at a end of term show for a flamenco class run in Edinburgh, by some Spaniards and Scots. As I sat listening to the music and singing and watching the dancing and the happiness of everyone watching the production, I thought about how wonderful it was to be able to embrace other cultures. How sad it was that going forward it would be so much harder to go to Spain to learn to play the guitar or come to Scotland to teach.
I also thought of the brain drain as scientists start leaving Britain so they can retain EU funding.
I'm told that the English majority decision to leave isn't about xenophobia or racism, but it's hard to square that against the demographics of the leave voters.
So at the moment I feel so hurt, confused and depressed, I'm not sure I can add a bitchy, fractured Twitter to everything else.
Even the football hasn't helped - maybe it will once the new club season kicks in. At least at Norwich we won't have to worry about having too many foreign players suddenly become ineligible to play for us...
