Living is Difficult
I have this constant, constant, constant...
something.
Like my entire essence is just swirling madly around myself and reaching out desperately for... something.
It makes me so compulsive and impulsive and I latch myself onto things and onto others in some attempt to stop it.
I don't know what it wants.
I don't know what I want.
I don't function.
I don't know how to be inside my own head.
Inside my own body.
It makes it so hard for me to focus on anything, or get anything done.
Unless I can do something without thinking, it makes me sick to my stomach.
I don't know what's wrong with me.
I want to do things, but I can't.
I can't fucking exist.
And it's getting really old.