Back, Again. Maybe It's Okay.

I'm tired of trying so hard to do things perfectly. I think that I spend so much time trying to find the right words I'm not looking to see if I am writing words that portray what I actually feel. The key to a description is writing in the things that nobody notices. Like the fact that I am so filled with irritation and sadness, even the socks on my feet feel constricting. That the earring in my right ear itches and my tears are only acknowledged when they leave trails on my face. Or the fact that no matter what I do to motivate myself my chest feels just as tight as the rest of the muscles in my body.

I remember just a few hours ago when the sunlight was breaking through the blinds of my parent's window and dotting the bedsheets like cherry blossom petals in the spring. I put on my father's sweatshirt for warmth and curled under the sheets. I liked the silence and I didn't want to do anything other than watch Netflix and had an empty head.

Now there isn't any sunlight. The day is slipping away. And I don't think I have enough strength to start tomorrow. Not that I don't want to exist tomorrow, but I have a feeling the time will slip away. I will hate what I used to love. I will hate all the things that I desired, even when I do them for good.

But there are so many people in this world who can work better than me and faster than me and more perfectly. I don't want to fall behind. I want to work with them, but I can't if I'm stumbling--pretending that I'm crippled. Cause this is all it is isn't it? I'm just pretending to be sad. I have no reason to be. I can't be. I just need to tell myself to get up and all will be well.

Where's the spark that started the fire? It wants to be set ablaze but I fear there is no oxygen. There has been no drastic fluctuation in life events. In fact, things might have gotten better, but I have been feeling worse. And I'm stupid. I'm stupid because this shouldn't be happening. I should be able to do everything that I used to do. I should be able to get up and do school with a willing attitude and try my best. I should be able to make myself breakfast and practice my instrument. Why do I feel so tired and so sad?

I wouldn't call it depressed. No, just a general feeling of 'blah.' I don't know why I think I could describe something--anything beautiful when I don't feel that way. I have more than enough right now. I'm beginning to feel like I used to back in sixth grade when my mental state wasn't too great. And for some reason, it feels comforting to feel this way again. I hate it and resist it, but at the same time, I let it hold me like a child.

Maybe it's better this way.