My rope is short and frayed.
I know I should tie a knot and hang on.
But I’m tired.
Tired of trying so hard.
Trying so smart.
Of giving my heart unconditionally.
Scared of conditions.
To lighten the mood, I have a book about suicide that I’m supposed to read for an upcoming post about depression.
Talk about fitting.
The depression part. Not the suicide part. Like I have the energy to plan something that elaborate.
The red flags of depression are flying tho.
Wanting to crawl in bed.
Wanting to seclude myself from the world.
Looking at the cabinet where the happy pills live and just not having the give a fuck enough to open it and take the pill.
So tonight I will wallow in sugar and white flour carbs. Tomorrow I will try better to be gentle with myself.