fuck depression. why can’t my brain just be fucking normal. i feel bad for no reason. my body is so fucking heavy. it feels like someone is crushing my lungs i can’t breathe.
it takes me at least an hour to crawl out of bed every morning. why the fuck is it so hard. it’s not hard. it’s not supposed to be this hard.
We are uncanny meat puppets, our consciousness a blasphemy against the mechanistic order of the world; we can imagine freedom but are ruthlessly subject to causality. Our very existence is a horror. Other animals suffer, but we know we suffer. We dread our suffering, but then endlessly relive it. Thanks for enjoying Arby’s.
What I mean to say is, in the face of all that, you’re doing great. It really is that hard, it’s not just you.