I Am Sick
I am sick of talking about things. I am sick of thinking about things. I am sick of being responsible and self aware. I am sick, and right now I don’t feel like being anything else.
I don’t want to do the right thing. I don’t want to force myself to eat on a schedule, to exercise, to be social, to watch my thought patterns and focus on my feelings. I don’t want to be mindful. I am so tired. Tired of all of it. I don’t want to fight or be treated or talk about it. I just want to be left alone.
I don’t want to go to counseling or talk about food and the inevitability of death with my amazing food lady. I don’t want to. I don’t care. I can’t get enough energy in my system to care about any of this stuff anymore. I just want to get smaller, hunker down, become invisible. Ghosts, I figure, have it pretty good.
I’m tired of noticing and leaning in and being the good mentally ill person. I’m tired of always showing up even when it costs me. I’m tired of caring. I mean, I have an anxiety disorder so caring is the never-ending thing I do. I always care. I’m always aware. I’m sick of it. I want to be the one who doesn’t show. I want to be the one who lets things drop. I want to stop giving an utter fuck.
Doing the work? Suck it. I don’t wanna. I don’t care if it’s good for me. I don’t care to be good. I just want to be left alone.
And this is how I know that right now my main concern isn’t anxiety; it’s depression. That’s what a depressed mind sounds like. That’s what my mind sounds like. I’m trying to hold her with compassion. That’s all I’ve got right now. That, and compassion for all of you struggling out there. I hold you, and myself, in my heart. Keep on. I have an anxiety disorder, depression, an eating disorder, and #IAmStigmaFree.