My brain is scattered. My thoughts are everywhere. I feel
like doing nothing by crying. But crying is a lot of effort. It hurts.
I’m trying, I really am. It’s just not happening. I’m so
tired. I really want to go to sleep. Every little movement is work.
Writing this is work. I’m doing it because I promised myself
that I was going to start recording these things.
This is what depression is; you can’t function. You just
can't. You are stuck, in a dark place. A pit of negativity. And you can’t climb
out. And it just hurts.
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