Depression still on me. Still feeling crushed by everything. Don’t want to speak to anyone, see anyone, do anything. Want to get in bed and stay there forever. Yuck. I feel yuck. Everything is gross. My mind is silt and sludge in all the synapses. The world feels desolate. Going outside is like putting on a suit of armour over all my wounds, my broken bones, and I can stiffly walk back and forth in the armour, all you’d notice would be my face curled into a slight grimace, but I come home and there’s blood pooling in the folds of metal, I take the plates off and slump to the floor.
I’m watching Star Trek Discovery. Just to have some company. I can’t bear to be around anyone but I don’t want to be alone. The sounds of television are comforting.
I can’t remember why I got like this. Whether it could have been avoided. My mind isn’t working clearly. One thought follows sluggishly behind another, trailing, fizzling into nothing. Living in a shadow realm.
I don’t know. Maybe hyperbole doesn’t help. Feel a pull towards doom laden hyperbole when I’m like this. But maybe I’m just trying to adequately describe the pain inside. I don’t know. I don’t know anything.
Brain hurts. Want to be positive but none of the words fit. Clumsy. Defective. Inoperable.
Is there anything in my present circumstance I can get curious about? Well. There’s something that feels… compulsive. I’m compelled to grasp and clench at the pain, even while it burns me. I think that’s rumination, or there’s an element of the ruminative mechanisms at play.
So I guess it’s interesting to note that. I can’t make any sense of it or work my way out of it right now, but it’s interesting to note. That’s something. That’s as mindful as I can be tonight.
I hear and feel your pain through this. It's beautiful despite the clear pain.
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