A loss of dreams.

I feel very shitty right now. And confused. Confused because I feel so shitty. And I have to ask myself -- how much of how I feel is medication-related? How much of it is just because of how my brain is wired -- how much of it could be cured with the right pill? And if it could just magically go away with a pill -- does that make it false? What's real and what's not? Are my feelings really my feelings? It's a very confusing matter.

I just want to -- cry -- but not even cry -- just to mourn what is lost -- to scream and let everyone know how screwed I am, as if their pity or assurances actually mattered. But I've lost nothing. Can't lose something you never had -- and yet there is a feeling of loss there. A hole that won't be filled. Something you just live with -- but I'm tired of living with it.

And it's 7:05 and I just CAN'T SLEEP. And how much of it is that? How much better will I feel after I've slept? Get some sleep, go to class, wash clothes, vacuum, play with the cat -- then I'll feel better, right? So does that mean that how I feel at this moment -- shitty -- isn't legit? How do I make it better?

Months and it's no better. Months and it's still like this. And no one understands -- and why should they? I'm glad it's all gone and only left to memory -- less to dwell on and lose myself in. Just memory and a clock. That's all that remains. And pain that an Advil won't fix.

Asshole.

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