To know.

Days like this I wonder how I even function at all. How do I do things ever.

My heart aches. I feel trapped in my cube.

I couldn't barely wake up and get out of bed.

I saw my counselor. 

I'm trying to be productive, but each moment feels like a struggle.

Why is my brain the way it is? Am I not doing enough to fix me?

Has there been progress? I don't know. I hope and hope, but don't know.

How are you with me? 

Will I always feel discontented and restless? What kind of life is that?

Not one I'd wish on anyone. 

Am I the only one who feels like I'm stuck in one place, even though my brain is screaming to run?

I don't know.

I don't know why there is you.

Sometimes I fear you don't believe me when I describe how fucked up I think I am on any given day.

Until that moment when you realize I've been speaking the truth the whole time.

My heart aches.

I want to feel contented, but sometimes it seems the more I grasp for it, the further away it is.

You make it seem so easy and I envy that about you.

I look at those that seem happy to try to replicate their efforts.

Try to go a day without wanting to cry or feel self-pity.

Why is this life, this life?