morbid self-attention

My life has tak­en anoth­er turn again. The days can go on with reg­u­lar­i­ty over and over, one day indis­tin­guish­able from the next. A long con­tin­u­ous chain.

—Taxi Driver

Time los­es all mean­ing when you can’t sleep more than two hours in a row, and every­thing else becomes mean­ing­less along with it. Some days I can’t eat, exer­cise, or face the world. All I can do is won­der when it’ll all end, and fight every thought that tells me to give up.

They said the med­ica­tion may make me feel worse before I start feel­ing bet­ter. This is how I dis­cov­er rock bot­tom is always rel­a­tive. A strange lit­tle hole I find myself in, where the days grow brighter with the chang­ing of sea­sons, insom­nia means I nev­er miss a sun­rise or sun­set, and I have noth­ing but free time, but none of it mat­ters.

2 comments

  1. Try to sleep; and most of all know that no mat­ter how unim­por­tant the cycles of your cur­rent exis­tence may seem, we are here wait­ing, hop­ing for you.

  2. Not sure whether the inso­mia comes with the med­ica­tion. Sleep is even more impor­tant than food. Wondering if you have lost any weight. Remember that all you friends are qui­et­ly sup­port­ing you,

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