Just Stop the World. Please.
It has become increasingly clear to me that, well...that I'm not really myself. I miss that more than anyone else ever could, because I know myself better than anyone else ever has or ever will. I've grown up and watched myself change. I've fucked up and I've berated myself. I've smiled when I've done something decent with my life.
And right now - and I don't ask anyone's pardon for saying this - I don't think I'm quite right. Should that offend your sensibilities, kindly fuck off and do some reading.
I'm lazy. I freely admit that I'm lazy. Left to my own devices I sleep for about 11 hours. I'm also abrasive, introverted, and have some pretty dark thoughts. All in all, a bit of a twat.
But here's the thing. Normally, I'm a functioning twat. Normally, I don't drag myself around with limbs that feel like they're made of lead (I am not a tall or heavy person, by the way) and seem disassociated from me. Normally, I don't have trouble working up the motivation to walk, stand, turn over, get out of bed, or physically reach the materials I need to do even the simplest of tasks. Normally, I don't get excited over the ability to feel anything other than a vague nothingness. Normally, I want to do something other than stay in bed and not move for the whole day. (At the time of writing, I've managed to get out of bed, which is a start.)
Normally, I don't constantly feel like I need a break that consists of lying motionless, face down in my bed, for a very long time. Normally, asking me to plan things doesn't stress me out. Normally, if people are snapping at me, I've got the strength to snap back at them instead of curling up and retreating into apathy. Normally, even though I don't really like myself, even though I'm a bit shit and have a bit of an inferiority complex, I don't feel so fragile and I'm not so painfully aware of how easy it is for me to totally snap. Normally, I don't find consciousness physically and emotionally painful. Normally, though the world is shit, I can find the good things, I can cope, I can face its struggles and find the strength to keep going. Right now, all I have is inertia...
...The worst thing is I don't know how much of this is teenage whining and how much is something that might not be quite right. I'll incline towards the former, if only because I want to err on the side of caution.
Actually, no, that's not the worst thing - the worst thing is realising how much I've come down. I've never really liked myself, but I remember a time when things were different - were better - and I miss it. I miss being motivated enough to get up and walk, much less burn myself out with projects like I used to. I miss wanting to do things and enjoying doing them. I miss smiling, laughing, even feeling angry. I miss wanting to live. I miss not having to put as much effort in to love humanity. I miss not being tense and sick and upset. I miss having enough motivation to care about myself before having trouble even turning over. I miss not having to ask for help.
I miss being me. And that's the worst thing.