It starts with oversleeping. I say I’m just so comfortable I don’t want to get up. But it pins me to the bed. It’s starting to suck the energy from me. It’s getting stronger by taking my strength. I wake up with my alarm but I don’t get out of bed like I should. I tell myself to stay where it’s warm and safe.
It stops me from eating like I should. I say I forget but I really don’t feel like it. But I really do. I’m just craving everything I can’t afford. I end up eating once a day. And that’s most likely a late breakfast. Not even a whole one. It weakens me.
Then the thoughts come. Why even try anymore. You’re not that talented. You’re not that smart. Your friends don’t really care. No one really cares. You should just give it. It’s too hard.
And the sadness keeps me from reaching out. I ignore my friends. I don’t tell them what my mind is doing to me. The sadness keeps me from emptying my thoughts on the page. I know its the best thing I should do but I just don’t feel like it. I have no more energy to fight it.
I never know what to do when it gets this far. So I just let it do what it wants. And I pretend I’m alright. But I wish I was back in bed. Alone with the fog. The only one who understands. The only one who believes.
It was nice while it lasted.