where the tall grass lulls my body to sleep

Update from my previous entry. I’m not sure if my emotional state is worse than I thought or I just took a swing. But I’m in so much emotional pain I can barely move. I can;’t even put a name on this pain or depression anymore. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve moved on from x, x and x. i planned the littlest goals for myself for tonight. but all I can do is lie here immobilized with absolutely no will and a feeling of an open wound that leaves my mind empty except for the instant feeling of how much it hurts.

and I’m sick of this. i just want to live. it’s been like this for years now but it’s never been this bad. why can’t I just live. i want to live a life. i do n’t wnt to rot like this.

All I’ve been able to do is stare at the ceiling and read a few pages of brothers karmazov. i don’t even have the ability to write some poetry or something anything to turn even this into something. i ordered food that was too expensive because I want, I need, something, but I know it’s not that, but I don’t know what to do.

why can’t I just. move my body. anything.

it’s been like this for so long now and I’m so sick of it. my life is passing me away. and I want to live it. but my body and will isn’t responding the same way.

i just want to function. i don’t even want those big dreams anymore. i just want to be able to get up in the morning and make my bed. clean my room. work and afford a house. get through school. make a little list and go grocery shopping. maybe do some baking that I can surprise friends with. have a little simple life with a house and a garden if I can keep that up. most people can. have small little things that I enjoy that I find meaningful. take care of myself. why am I so immobilised.

i feel so heavy. and I don’t even know why or what’s wrong anymore.

the dream of my life at this point is just to lie down by some slow river and stare at the light in the trees. without my anxious and depressed and angry mind eating up my body, eating up my nerves, eating up my brain. i feel this rotting of my life taking over, slowly tainting all of me, so that I don’t even recognise my self, I have nothing in common with the person I nwas or who she wanted me to be. i can never just enjoy the simplemness of being alive, not even for an instant. I’m tired of living without any joy. i think I’m losing it. I’ve become delusional even. I’m afraid to demand the right to be so anxious and afraid. I’m trying so hard, and you can’t imagine how hard I wish it was enough, how much I wish I really could just function, and live, and breathe, and be normal.

confession- the want to die is not always the want to not live, but sometimes the want to live somewhere softer. where the tall grass lulls my body to sleep where everything promises to stay alive. but then, even in the softest of existence and even with the most leniency and easiness on myself, I can’t do anything. i can’t even lie and stare at the light behind the trees and feel the beauty of life.

” I am the interval between what I am and what I am not, between what I dream and what life has made of me.” Fernando pessoa, the book of disquiet.

but as it stands I’m not even living I am nothing. and I just feel pain and it’s blinding me to everything and I just wish this wound would stop I just wish I could move.

pain pain pain pain pain and I don’t even know what to say or how to express the deep extent of it it’s just pain and hurt

completely separate but also I can maybe smmon the energy to start a little dream journal. that’s something.