i wake up in the morning and then can’t get back to sleep. my mind races, pouring over all the faces i’ll never see again. i’m numb. complacent. confused. devastated and torn to pieces – hurt and worn and put away wet – exhuming every detail of the last ten years: an epic odyssey of regret.

my heart is heavy but my head feels light – my chest feels tight – i grab my phone and stare at it, you know the drill: swipe left swipe right. now i’m on the trawl. everything helps a little at first, but nothing really ever helps at all.

i wake up in the morning and grab myself a smoke. perhaps a little ****? a shot of whiskey to lubricate the spokes? it’s not a good idea but who gives a **** what i do?

i’m stuck. paralyzed. incarcerated. trapped inside a cozy cocoon of narcissism. lashing out and resorting to alcoholism. i’ve stopped exercising. there’s been a sharp increase in my womanizing. fat and sugar both suddenly seem so appetizing. all the things that hurt me are actually the most tantalizing. it’s demoralizing. i’m realizing that my actions are destabilizing the very fabric of my mental state. i feel like a slave who forgot to save the password to his freedom. christ. i feel lost. feels like my life is in a vise. i get advice, but then i ignore it and instead keep on chasing the next vice. my heart bleeds. i don’t want what other people want. but i also don’t know how to find what i need.

depression. it’s back for another session. three weeks and counting, this is my official confession. i’m sure that somewhere there’s a lesson about the need to lessen my obsession with bad options. in truth, i want to go. leave. disappear again. escape. run away. jettison out of this place, pain, and situation.

i wake up in the middle of the night and there’s nothing left to do. my heart hurts. it’s stupid but i can’t make it stop. it’s dumb but i can’t help but feel like i’m in the dumps. ****, i’m stuck, in a perpetual drop, deeper and deeper into a frenzy of madcap lunacy.

what the hell am i supposed to do?