i wanted to write an update. but i don't know what to write.
things are moving at a snail's pace. i'm trying. but i have no motivation.
it's cruel how fickle my energy is, how quickly it fades and i fall back into fogginess. it seems one day i'm doing everything i want. the next day i want to die in a bottle.
i'm forcing myself to write. it's slow, difficult work. i can only do a few hundred words a day. mostly i just stare at the screen. but i like what i've written so far.
my dreams have been really vivid. it takes me a bit after i wake up to realize that certain things weren't actually real. i'll think i have some errand to run only to remember it was in the dream, or be excited to tell someone something that turns out to not have happened. this has really hurt me with some especially loving dreams, to wake up and watch it slowly fade to nothing.
i'm tired of being alone, all day, every day; all night, every night; tensing up at the thought of reaching out, and kicking myself when i drunkenly collapse into the inevitability of it. trying to balance the shame and the honesty the next day. feeling dumb. i don't know why.
but i'm here. i guess that's something.