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.'