Barely a month later, and here I am again.
It’s getting so much harder for me to keep on keeping on, even though I realize that the material is actually getting easier.
It’s like I cannot muster up the strength to get my brain to work and it’s so frustrating– so frustrating to keep on disappointing people when on the outside, I don’t even have an excuse or anything to complain about, except the fact that I’m so bloody tired.
It upsets me to think that I write here on my blog now because it’s the only “safe” place for me. It’s like a cry for help- to want my thoughts to be out there, but at the same time, in a not-so-visible platform. These are thoughts I definitely cannot air out on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram, partly because they’re infested with well-wishers who try their best to make you feel better but somehow end up making you feel worse. And then you feel even more sorry because you know their words come from a good place, but why does it only annoy you? (At this point, I don’t even know what I want anymore, honestly)
Sometimes I wonder if this is a manifestation of something far worse inside of me, but I’ve read stuff about those and I don’t feel the overwhelming, crushing feeling of the Grim or the needless tossing-and-turning, or the I-can’t-feel-anything feelings. I’m just so spent and I’m so tired of making excuses for myself and I’m scared that I’m running out of gas for this long drive. And I’m not even sure I like the destination anymore.