I feel this need to write. Like an ache in my soul. But as I sit here, staring at this screen, I have nothing. No pretty words, no uplifting quotes, no positive outlook.
I am devoid even of anger. I simply feel, empty. Numb. Like all the happiness has been sucked out of the world and it will never smile again.
I’m sure I’m not the only one feeling like this; feeling overwhelmed with simply being. Everything seems so precarious now. Like the old twilight zone T.V. series, nothing is quite right.
My main issue right now is that I can’t determine if these feelings are a consequence of the circumstances surrounding the world, or simply my own mental illnesses. I feel so detached from everyone around me.
I find myself even daydreaming in gray. All the color has been drained off and everything looks the same. Like being in a fishbowl, surrounded by glass. I can see life moving around me, but I can’t tell if I too am moving or if I’m standing still. When I open my mouth to speak it feels like I am choking.
I am exhausted, quite simply. Tired of being tired. Tired of being trapped in my own mind and never really feeling like myself, whoever that is anymore. It feels like I’m invisible, you can speak to me but I can’t hear what you’re saying. The words fall out of my mouth like rocks, heavy and awkward and I’m not sure I should’ve said anything back.
Will I ever not feel like this? No amount of medication can fix me. I wish I could wake up.
“Do you think I’m crazy?”