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bed prison
2019-08-17 // 2:36 a.m.

Coming here to write what feels like a prison diary. I'm trapped in my bed; send help.

I crave a distinctive beginning, middle, and end for this sickness. Instead it's up and down-- for a couple of months I really thought I was improving and that maybe I would be able to go back to work in September. Now? I know there's no way.

I can't drive or walk around, and today I brought my grocery delivery inside and got winded from the walk outside to and from the gate. I had to stop for a rest. I'm not good at distance, but let's say it was a total of 40 feet or so. God, not even that, probably? It's nothing.

Today I stayed in bed all day. I did it because my housemate wanted to use the living room to celebrate 6 months with their girlfriend, and I think that's a totally reasonable request. When they asked me last night, I googled movie showtimes. I actually thought it would be nice to go sit in a theater and give them the house for a few hours since I'm gone so rarely.

God I'm so fucking stupid.

I woke up from a bad dream feeling glued to the bed. Too heavy to move.

At that point I knew I wouldn't be able to go to the movies or anywhere else. Of course not. The thing that's shitty is that I feel too bad to even bother trying to use a car service to get to and from places. Never mind that it's expensive and I shouldn't do it. I can't. Even if I want to.

Leaving the house means showering (because I haven't in a couple of days) and putting on clothes (bleh) and shuffling out of the house only to be tired by making it to the end of the driveway. It means holding onto things as I slowly make my way through the world wondering what people think when they see me. Do they wonder if I'm drunk or wasted? Do they think I'm just fat? Lazy?

Part of me doesn't care. But part of me does. So.

God. I'm just having a rough moment. Or twelve. Or a thousand. Please excuse me while I just list a bunch of dumb shit that's on my mind:

-I joined tinder again and every time I match with someone I close the app in fear that they'll message me. I'll delete it if that happens.

-I feel at least a little unworthy of love, which I recognize is foolish. What do you do when you can't afford a therapist and you're also emotionally smart enough to sometimes be able to call out your own shit but have no idea exactly how to deal with it? IDK about anyone else, but I cry and go to my quiet little diaryland diary where nobody else exists but me.

-The unworthy thing is because I see my role in relationships as a caretaker. In fact I can't find any value to myself beyond that. Why would anyone love me if I can't do things for them or with them? If I'm too tired to make them laugh? If I don't think we could have sex very often because I just fucking can't exert that much energy?

-Also I am very bad at asking for help and I need to get better but I have no idea how. When people want to help I'm at a loss. I can't do anything in return. Why do I deserve this? So many other people need things. Why help me?

-I keep worrying that I'll lose my closest friend here. She's helped me a lot through this illness in part because she herself is sick and knows how everything works. But fuck!! She has to get tired of it. Of me. We made out a little for a while and I told her I couldn't do anything else because I didn't want to lose her friendship, which was true. But it feels much more calculating to admit that I knew any failed romance wouldn't just leave me out a friend, it'd leave me without a lifeline. And I knew I didn't have romantic feelings for her beyond my usual romantical friend feelings, but I worried that saying that would just make her angry and so I gave a cop out answer instead.

-But like. She's gotta be annoyed with me already.

-I have no idea what I will do when my medical leave ends in a couple of weeks. I can't work at all right now, can't even reliably write or read or focus. Definitely can't drive 30 minutes each way to do a physically taxing job. What if they fire me? Where will I go?

-I'm scared enough that sometimes I just hope I'll die in the middle of the night.

-I don't know what to do and I feel so alone. Useless.

I've been in bed all day and I hate it. I hate this.


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