Mental health is a helluva thing to rocever to where you're at least functioning enough to get by day to day. Fuck being friendly. Fuck staying in touch. It's a herculean task in itself to just wake up and find a reason worthwhile to get out of bed. Go about the daily grind. Try to get where you need to be. Rinse. Repeat. Hit the clock, start over. Watching it all go to hell around you because you're this husk of the person you once were stuck wearing a smiling mask that's chipping away with each lie of "I'm fine" when you're only wondering when does it end? When do I get to be me again? Never knowing if it's the next minute, the next day, the next year. Waiting each passing second for that switch to flip and let you be free. No more rinse. No more repeat. The clock keeps going and you're free. You're tired of waiting to be free. You're tired of hiding and lying and wanting it to end.
I'm so damn tired.
