self-isolation
My mum tells me to leave the house more often and it’s not that I don’t want to it’s just that I can’t because the thought of only doing so makes my knees go weak but she keeps telling me to “just” meet up with friends.

2. not finding joy in what used to make you happy
It’s not that I don’t make plans with friends, because I do, it’s just that I don’t want to because I know that, as soon as I’m out doing things that used to make me happy and are supposed to still make me happy, I will have to pretend that I am, in fact, happy.
And it is exhausting.

3. insomnia
You tell me to sleep more because I look tired as if I am not aware of the bags under my eyes. You do not realise that they feel even worse than they look. You do not know that I am in bed early every single night because I do feel tired I just can’t sleep. Even though I am tired and my body is tired, my brain never is and I have tried reading and taking walks in the middle of the night and listing and counting sheep and insecurities and defeat and crushed wishes and possible ways to die.

4. thinking of death as “nothing big”
What scares most people is what intrigues me. I often find myself considering crossing the road right when a car rushes by or simply jumping out the window when I find myself in high buildings. It’s not that I want to die, it’s more that I am fascinated by how easy it is, opposed to everything else in life.

5. things that are supposed to be easy aren’t so easy any more
The biggest one is getting out of bed, I believe.
I have learned to put my alarm fifteen minutes earlier to let my brain and body accustom to the idea of having to face things that I don’t even know are going to happen. The fear of having to face the unknown is like a constant winter, freezing my throat shut and making breathing a whole lot more difficult than it is supposed to be.

6. being very aware of your breathing and heartbeat**
I never noticed how natural breathing was until I started to have trouble doing so. Now it just feels as though my lungs and my heart are in a constant fight to decipher which is the strongest which leaves me in a constant battle of having to focus on my breathing whilst my heart is making me feel as though someone is repeatedly punching me from the inside.
I know none of it makes sense and even if I try to explain it all to you, you will still tell me you don’t understand. But frankly, neither do I.

Being so aware of my breathing and heartbeat also makes me aware of the fact that they are still going, and that is really the only thing that matters in the end.
They are still going.