No motivation to get up, no motivation to do anything, no motivation to live.
Getting out of bed is getting harder and harder. The thought of having to do anything fills me with anxiety and anger.
What is wrong with me? Why is life so hard to want?
I just want to be able to get up and not dread every waking moment. I want to want to do things and be with people and live my life while I still have it. Yet I spend my time hating who I am with the depressed thoughts that rule me.
How can I remove these thoughts from my being when they feel like they are the very essence of what I think is me? How do I get to the point where I can wake up and not think about sad things?
I have a love hate relationship with running. I love running outside because it’s easy for me to push myself when I’m actually going somewhere and not staring at a fucking screen. I HATE treadmill running and the thought of having to run on one throughout the whole winter was driving me insane and making me want to scream and throw things.
I guess the solution would be to run outside even when it’s freezing, but I’m not about freezing my lungs or slipping on ice because fuck that. That’s where HIIT running comes in. Like I don’t even have to listen to music while I’m doing this because trying to breathe is distracting enough.
I hate how everything hurts. My heart, my brain, my skin, my bones. All at the same time. It’s like everything decides to get injured all at once and the noise of all these aches is driving me insane. I feel broken body and mind and I just want to crawl out of this existence into a comfortable one where pain does not exist unless you want it to.
I have so much rage towards my lab TA. His teaching methods and his never ending fucking lessons that don’t teach anyone anything piss me the fuck off. I hate that I have to waste 3 hours every fucking week to deal with his bullshit. He is so fucking horrible at managing his time that he always ends up making us stay LONGER because he won’t shut the fuck up. Excuse me while we miss our fucking buses so you can keep saying the same shit over and over again because you don’t know when to shut the fuck up you beady eyed little fuck. Let us all just be late for our next class because you have useless shit to say at us. Why do you think what you have to say is so important? All of this for 1 credit. And so help me god if you don’t give me an A on this fucking report. I will rip your fucking beard off.
When I was little I thought that by the time I was this age I would know what I was doing with myself. I had this grand idea that adult me would somehow have her shit together and be confident in her choices in life. Little me was wrong. I can remember being that girl and feeling all that hope that one day I was going to feel safe and comfortable and satisfied in life and that that day was going to be sometime around now. It isn’t. I have never felt more afraid or more confused then I do now. I wake up each day and wonder how I got here when it was just yesterday. I don’t know what I’m doing or where I’m going. All I know is that I feel very alone and very close to breaking.
“You will lose everything. Your money, your power, your fame, your success, perhaps even your memories. Your looks will go. Loved ones will die. Your body will fall apart. Everything that seems permanent is impermanent and will be smashed. Experience will gradually, or not so gradually, strip away everything that it can strip away. Waking up means facing this reality with open eyes and no longer turning away. But right now, we stand on sacred and holy ground, for that which will be lost has not yet been lost, and realising this is the key to unspeakable joy. Whoever or whatever is in your life right now has not yet been taken away from you. This may sound trivial, obvious, like nothing, but really it is the key to everything, the why and how and wherefore of existence. Impermanence has already rendered everything and everyone around you so deeply holy and significant and worthy of your heartbreaking gratitude. Loss has already transfigured your life into an altar.”—Jeff Foster (via coketalk)