This is a pretty familiar feeling, of going through each day in a haze, dimly aware of my situation but doing little else but sitting in front of a computer and sleeping. I'm depressed, but I'm not miserable. I feel like I don't care enough to be miserable, which is worse in a way. How many more days until I snap myself out of it and start getting things done again? I no longer feel the urge to reach out to others and be social. I just want to draw in on myself and sleep. I don't want others to see me like this even though I vaguely wish I could l wake up and feel determined again.
It's funny how quickly I can lose myself like this. I'm weak-willed, I guess. Just a couple of weeks ago I was making plans. I wanted to go back to school. I was exercising, felt excited about this writing project and what I could accomplish in the future. Now it feels like a chore. I have little enough to write about, even when I'm just treating it as therapy. Getting my feelings out there doesn't help as much as it did before because it doesn't change anything. I'm still here in Kentucky living with my mother. I'm single, unemployed, and completely unable to take care of myself. I'm drifting away and barely trying to stay afloat.
I'm going to keep up this writing exercise, even though the quality of my writing slips every day. It's a routine and the only one that I have left. I need to cling to it. I feel that its important that I at least have some kind of obligation, self-imposed or not. Maybe I'll find some inspiration from it yet. It has been helpful in the past, maybe it will be once again.
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