It’s been nearly exactly one year. I’ve given up on everything. I feel sick about myself – body, mind and soul. I have no clue as to why I allow myself to just give up the way I do. I wish I had that fighting spirit I see in so many other people but when life starts pushing against me I sort of just roll over and die. Or not die. I tell myself I’ll face it and fight my battle later. After I’ve done whatever it is I’d rather do instead. After I’ve watched this show or after that coffee-date with _______(insert friends name). It’s nothing but laziness, I know. I know exactly what I need to do to move forward. I know it won’t be half as bad as I make it out to be. I know I’ll feel great about myself and my life and everything there is after getting shit done. But I still postpone said shit-doing until one day I wake up and I literally can’t breathe because I’m at the very bottom of my very own pile of actual shit. (Ok, not literally but you know…)
So here I am. March 2014. Drowning in a mixture of school work, actual work, 15 kg of excess fat, an echoing feeling of loneliness and yet a longing to be alone. I can’t even believe I’m posting this. Pathetic. But Idunno. This is simply how I feel a lot of the time.
I want to be my awesome self though. I guess tomorrow is as good a day as any to start.