(no subject)
Here's the catch 22. How do you reconnect with that vital, urgent, cosmic greatness that makes life worth living if you can't even get out of bed? If you can barely feed yourself? The key is in going out and doing it, doing it anyway. If only you could do anything without wanting to crawl out of your skin. Anxiety seems to be self perpetuating, but I don't have an answer. There's a ten thousand pound anvil made out of pure dread hanging out on my shoulders. We're so close, I may as well give him a name at this point. He may as well be my valentine. I wish I had the words to articulate it. How do you get motivated to pull yourself out of a trap, to be responsibly, sincerely, dilligently commited to your own happiness and well being if you can't even motivate yourself to get dressed, eat, shower, leave your house, your room, your bed? Need to be around people and not trapped in my head, but reaching out to anybody seems terrifying and pathetic. What were those "mommys little helper" pills from the 50s? I want those.