Another day, another whatever

As each day goes by, I notice my pattern of self-abuse is not getting better. I stay up to late, my anxiety makes me restless so my sleep is disturbed, I cannot focus on my work, the anxiety build up so I watch television shows or do literally anything except my work, and then the sleep is disturbed and the anxiety and I, and I, and I just cannot continue this cycle of misery and anxiety being masked by moments of joy as I escape my world to a fictional one, a better one, where the good guys always win, and there is a plot, rather than the random occurrences that make up my life. I’m so tired. Just exhausted, but I sleep is not the answer. In fact, it’s part of the problem. And I will have to find a way to overcome this all, like I have a hundred times before.

Good night.


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