Tired. in The Napkin.

I feel like I peaked a decade ago. To feel like you’re going somewhere. I’ve almost forgotten what that feeling is like.

It feels like a slow fade away into nothingness.

Free to do whatever I want, pick any direction. But, I’ve never really had a direction. Does anyone, or is it just a lie we tell ourselves to keep ourselves sane? Hope is but a fiction we want very badly.

One of the downsides of being a morning person is that I can’t sleep in. Oh, I can try. But I just lay in bed feeling tired. I hope I have more energy tomorrow. I’m taking today off from the gym. I may take tomorrow off. This is problematic, as the last time I rested two days in a row I ended up relapsing.

I rested and got MORE anxious.

I’ve known for decades that my brain is broken, but sheesh, I’ll take the brokenness of years past than now.

No security net. No fallback. Nobody to rely on.

I’m almost spiteful of those that seem happy and have their shit together. The misery of others makes me happy. Not happy that they’re going through shit. Happy that I’m not alone in existential torture.

I’m not looking forward to xmas. Oh, I revel in being a grinch, but I actually LIKE the festivities. I love watching Home Alone. I love having a tree. I love giving gifts. I love making cheesecake or cookies. I love snow. It’s just depressing as fuck when you don’t have anyone to share it with. Is solitude turning me into a ball of rage?