Living and Other Things

Simply living is difficult at times.  I know that might be scary for people to read those words , but I just want to be honest.

Life.  Is.  Hard.

As I’m writing this, the anxiety is making it harder to breathe and my heart feels so tight in my chest, like a black hole is sucking me into one condensed space where there’s no going back.

The depression is telling me that everything is pointless.  Whispering to me that I’m too scared and weak to do anything.  That I will never have a future.  That everything I have been working towards is shit and doesn’t matter, because nothing will come of it.

I’m telling you, my mental illness hasn’t been treating me well lately.  And it’s hard because it’s finals week and my university.  I’m mostly done, but I have this 8-10 page paper for an honors class that I didn’t enjoy looming over me.  I have written one paragraph.  It is due in about three days.  My fingers can barely move when I stare at that paper.  Instead, I feel more comfortable reading Americanah and playing bubble spinner.

I’m attempting to graduate a year early as well.  And that is terrifying because how the hell am I supposed to figure out what I want to do.  There’s graduate or getting a job but I have not idea what I should pursue.  There are options but I feel as though I need to pick carefully as what I pick could define part of my future.

Thank you for reading about my current situation.  Feel free to share yours too.  We can do it.

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