go away, come back

If a persons surroundings are a reflection of themselves, then I might be in some trouble.  For this means I am dusty and unkempt, down and disorderly.  A place for almost everything, but everything not in it's place.

It's official - I'm struggling.  I don't know whether it's the change in meds, or something else.  Something I'd thrown to the back of the cupboard, thinking it would stay there.  But, I suppose if you throw enough items into the closet, it will eventually burst open, and those things once hidden will roll out at your feet - whether you want them to, or not.

I don't feel well, in body or mind.  I feel like a stone, suffocating in moss.  My head is foggy with emptiness.  I'm not inclined to move much at all - in fact, I am inclined to cease battling at all, to not roll out of bed, to stay within this dream state - keeping the curtains closed to the light outside.  Like I did today.

I'm supposed to give this a name - I'm supposed to have answers for the people around me.  They are unrelenting with their questions.  It's annoying.  How can I have answers for them when I have none for myself? I'm just trying to do what I can, to make it from moment to moment.  Why do they ask more of me?

I hate feeling stagnant.  Purposeless.  Alone.  People might reach their hands through the hole in the wall to grab at me, but I am still alone.

In a few short hours, I have my first appointment with a counsellor.  I thought in my head it would be all routine blah, blah - this is how I feel. Now, I fear it might be more of 'please help me find myself.'