As my mental health and insomnia continue to drive me into the deepest pits of desolation and despair, I have found myself becoming more and more guarded. And more neglectful of the things I love too.

I have stopped writing consistently. I have stopped reading. And eating. And taking care of myself.

And it sucks, but I can't help it.

My room, a physical reflection of my head, is a mess—and I don't have the desire or willingness to fix it. I do just enough (the absolute bare minimum) to stay afloat but things are getting (and have been) difficult [for some time]. I feel anxious and slightly trapped; exhausted and alone.

A few days ago I went 36 hours without sleeping and despite my whining and complaining throughout the “day” in order to seem normal I felt numb and dead on the inside. I felt nothing. A car could have hit me, someone could have flayed me alive and I would have felt nothing. My lack of feeling got to such a horrible place where I would have actually thanked the car driver or psychopath if they had managed to make me feel anything.

And again, it sucked.

Guilt started creeping in and my inner saboteur made its rounds, reminding me of how stupid my Endeavor is and of why I will never succeed.

And again, it sucked, but I couldn't help it. I had no strength to tell Wanda (yes, I named her) to go away, and I reverted back to my childhood, which only made things infinitely worse.

But today is a good-ish day. I slept four hours throughout the night and I managed to revive my soul by writing something I found to be meaningful. I finished a book and I solved a problem. A small one, but a problem solved, nonetheless.

Stranger, if you're still here thank you for listening.

These feelings are consistent, yet they also come and go. It's weird, I know. Some days are better than others; some are not. Some are just days and some are just some.

But they are days and they are mine; and for as long as I am able to I will continue going with the punches. I will continue fighting my way out of the doldrums and I will not give up.

I feel tired, but I'm not exhausted.

Not yet.

Today is a good day and I'm going to enjoy it.

I have books coming tomorrow.


C. W.