Journal

I've been thinking a lot, but it's like my thoughts don't go anywhere, and when I try to give them substance in words they never seem to truly represent what I thought. So my thoughts disappear into the void and are rolled away with the coming of a new day and a new cycle in this wretched life I live. 

I don't want to sleep these days. At all. Sleep seems like a waste of time when I'm constantly itching for more time. And the night is when my thoughts come the most fluidly. It's when I'm awake and my mind is most clear and I'm most motivated to work. I'm not a morning person, at all. I wake up feeling absolutely depressed and drained of any motivation to get up and live my life. If I could be, I would be nocturnal. I've contemplated it before actually. The night is quiet. No dog, no people talking, nothing to distract me. Just me and the absolute fortitude and strength of my thoughts and my being, my wall of a person. 

But I can't do that. The night is lonely too. And all of my classes are during the day. 

That being said, it's 1AM again and I don't feel like sleeping. It feels like being forced to sleep in the middle of the day or for a normal person, or a couple hours after waking up when you're at the peak of energy. My day and night cycle and sleep cycle has been screwed for years now, probably. I'm used to the mornings being crap, the day being a drag, and the night being a relief that has to be cut short by sleep. And then when I wake up, I'm confronted again by the awful, awful morning. 

I repeat what I've said and thought countless times. I want the cycle I've been living to end, and I want to stop feeling this way. But I don't know how or if I ever can. It seems as immmovable as stone that things will be like this. Even if I can venture away, it's like a tether that will always pull me back. 

I know that's not true, and thinking that way is what pulls me back. 

I'm battling hopelessness and depression and profound anxiety every day now. Every day it feels as if I make concessions at one point and then attempt to reclaim myself at another, before drowning in tiredness and acute stress. I'm so tired. Even talking about it doesn't make me feel better like it did when I was young. The world feels like it's closing itself before me, or I'm closing myself off from the world. It is still boundless and full of possibility, but I feel powerless to reach any of it, kept away by an immovable force that I can't explain. 

I'd like some relief, but it feels like I can't do anything meaninful during another day behind these walls. This old, dusty crusty house. I need to carve my own path, find strength. That's what I'm lacking. That's something I need to find through sheer grit and determination, otherwise I'll never het out of this rut.