Ever have that feeling where you have a million options and yet you’re bored out of your skull? Snap.
I hate this intense lack of interest in life in general. I want to occupy myself, but feel like there’s nothing I want to occupy myself with. Eating is too much hassle. Watching something is too dull. Doing housework is too arduous. Sitting here alone with my thoughts is dangerous.
I wish I could snap my fingers and just cause my anxiety and depression to evaporate. Like, it’s been three years, it’s getting old now. Unfortunately it doesn’t work like that. Instead it’s a painful, agonisingly slow journey up a steep hill, trying to focus on the promise of a better view at the summit, but doubting such a place even exists.