Lassitude

I thought I was in the clear. Depression hit me really hard a few days ago. I was so much better yesterday. This morning, however, I’m barely even alive. I’m sure sleep deprivation has a lot to do with it. 30 minutes of sleep won’t do me much good today.

I made it through the night without reliance on drugs. Oh, was that difficult! I had tied myself to the bed with sheets, in manner of speaking.

I’m going to keep on going today and not worry anyone else. I feel so burdensome! When is this going to end? At what point will I be able to break free from this gloom and wake up happy- for more than 3 consecutive days? I’m so frustrated. I’m even more frustrated that I won’t help myself. I almost feel like ‘what’s the point?” Rationally and analytically, I know I should be seeing more psychiatrists, meditating, eating well, staying active. Why can’t I then just do it? Am I roller-coastering into an even worse depression?

Even now! I know this is my own personal blog, I can say whatever the hell I want to. Yet, I still feel guilty writing this. I feel bad about always feeling bad. *tears hair out*

God dammit this is so stupid. This is so beyond ridiculous. It’s been 8 months of this. I’m so drained.

I can’t even eat anymore. I have no appetite. I’ll take bites to appease my immediate audience, but I haven’t actually eaten in days. When I do eat, I feel this fucked up guilt crawling inside my body. As if my soul is saying, Why the fuck are you nourishing us? Let us be…

I feel myself traipsing through the hallways at work, wanting nothing more than to find a small compartment in which I could slide into, collapse, and sleep.

I went to prayer last night. I recognized a few people. though there have been a lot of changes to the mosque. It helped me, no doubt. I may go again later tonight, or at least this weekend.

And now I want to profusely apologize for this post. I want to cry my eyes out and apologize. Do you see my frustration? I don’t know how to ask for help. I’m getting that familiar longing for a hospital bed, somewhere safe. I want to be somewhere where I know I won’t be tempted to jump off a building or a chair.

Empty promises. I’m not going to do that.

I leave you with Simon and Garfunkel.

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