My mind won’t calm down, no matter what I do. I start by asking myself questions about what arrangement is correct for my cover-letter and my thoughts quickly spiral into asking what happens if my mom’s treatments don’t take. To say it’s out of control would be an understatement and there’s really nothing that I can do about it.
It’s difficult trying to play-the-game in a world that seems anything but fair or realistic. What’s really easy for me these days is feeling like I am the problem. Feeling like there is something wrong with me, that is something that I can’t shake.
This situation that I’m presently in is weighing on my heart. I want my own space. I want to know that the future is going to be positive. I want a sign of when this is all going to be over and when I can breathe easy again. There’s this weight that’s permanently hanging over me, the weight of depression, slowly eating away at my happy moments each and every day. I don’t want to continue like this because I don’t know how long it’s going to be before my happiness disappears all together.
I realize this sounds exceptionally dramatic. I’m not even trying to be that way, it’s just how today is happening for me. Nothing seems like a small deal and everything feels as though I need to conquer the world to make it through.
Maybe I am the problem. Maybe I am not supposed to be happy. Maybe this is as good as it gets. It sucks that I’m really starting to believe myself when I say that.