Here is my pathetic attempt at wading through the mess of thoughts and doubts and confessions that are piling up in my brain. Allow me to write down what I pick up in this psychological junkyard.
I’m tired and I’m at the point where I hardly even have willpower to breathe.
It’s really, really difficult to push yourself to do anything when the person that’s supposed to believe in you and reassure does exactly the opposite. I don’t see myself doing well anymore and I hope that makes you smile because you’re likely to win.
The feeling of Naproxen going down my throat, even though it’s supposed to take about 30 minutes to kick in, immediately soothes me. Instant relief even though it isn’t actually possible. These drugs give me stomach ulcers and increase my risk of developing cancer tenfold but I do not care.
I go back and forth on caring about myself. Sometimes I’m controlled. Collected in a way that makes you believe that maybe, just maybe, I’ve actually got a grip on my life. Don’t be fooled in the same way I tend to fool myself. I’m not.
The cramps in my stomach, they’re completely destroying me.
I have to write my essay for the common application tonight in order to hand in to my English teacher tomorrow. I have nothing to write about. Nothing to say to promote the higher education that will design and shape the rest of my life (or so they say). You might think I should be concerned about this or that I should prepare the coffee that I will be drinking to keep me up all night… but I’m not and I won’t.
Right now, instead, I’m considering watching a movie. Maybe Star Wars. Or Wall-E. Lord of the Rings would be nice too. I want to make popcorn and macaroni and cheese and spend the rest of the night curled up in sweatpants and self hopelessness and then sleep until the end of my life.
This adomania is killing me. Everything is happening far before I’m prepared for it.
I have an anxiety attack when I got home. My throat closed up and my eyes welled and I wanted everything to stop.
I ask for too much.
I’m tired.
