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Questioning: 9/16/20

 I wake up. Most days I try to keep my eyes closed for as long as possible. Most days I feel dread. Dread. It's even hard to type it. I'll smoke a bowl, to settle my nerves. Most days that's enough to make it bearable. I'll still struggle to get up. I like to spend a lot of time dreaming of what I could do, not actually doing it. The dream, every day, is to run away. I like to fantasize about floating in the air or underwater. I like the thought of feeling light. Admittedly, I wonder if that's what death feels like. These thoughts help me cope. I focus on feeling nothing for as long as I can. But some days are worse. Some of the days I claw at my skin. Some of the days I have to rock myself back and forth. Some days I force myself to take a xanax so that I won't cry all day. All of the sudden I feel everything. It scares me when it feels like this heavy, dark, posion in my stomach. I can't put my finger on it. Something is inside of me and I want it out. It's poisoning everything. 

I try so fucking hard to be alive. It shouldn't be this hard. Someone else could live in my body and give it a better life. Take my brain and throw it out. I am wasting my life feeling like this. I'm tired of pretending. I want to be left alone. Don't ask me questions, don't make me talk. I don't care... about anything. Is life really just sitting in silence with yourself, looking around, at the same rooms and people forever? Is there answers in traveling? The come down hurts just like any other drug. Will I make it til next time, will next time be enough, will anything ever be enough. What, in the end, keeps me here. At this point, not knowing. If I knew what was in store for me, I'd be gone already. 

Today was one of those days. I struggled to follow the motions. I was grateful when I remembered to pour myself a cup of water. I have to think in lists. I have to ask myself what will make me feel better and go from there. Every day I'm overwhelmed. So, most days, the answer is to rest. I rest a lot. More than most people, I assume. Everyone can't feel this exhausted by living. At least I hope not. If you do, I'm sorry, and I'm looking for answers too. I really hate talking. It doesn't seem to work for me. I don't feel like my point comes across. I don't feel understood. Part of my list is self care. Sometimes it's a productive list like yoga or gardening, running or reading. Most days it's an embarassing list like getting out of bed or washing my face, pouring myself a glass of water or gulping a pill. Trying to drink a glass of water. Trying and failing. I'd like help. Are therapy and medication the help I need? 

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