Its been so long since I had conversations with Bob, Julia and The Darkness. I don't know what to call this. It wasn't here yesterday. Yesterday my mind was pleased with itself. It thought about things and cared about things and did things. It was brave and passionate and alive. And today its afraid. Its in pain and its is so sad. And the worst part is that my mind has no idea why or what to do about it. I just want it to stop. My bed is the only place the feels safe. There isn't a distraction I can think of strong enough to help me hide from this.

There isn't a fucking thing wrong with my life, so why do I wake up some mornings and feel like I would feel if I'd just lost the love of my life to a horrible illness and my job was awful and civil war was bearing down on my household?