It's back. That dreaded state of depression. Truly I cannot help myself. If you think that by thinking positive and by occupying time with activities to help shift thoughts would work, well I'm here telling you that it doesn't for me. Let me try to describe what I feel. Hot major discomfort at the throat, eyeballs hooked to invisible weights behind the mind, needled feet, and a soar gut. Physically it feels that way. Lighter too, for you can only dream of what's left of the little weight I have, seen on scale. That's right, I too, wonder where my appetite had gone to? Emotionally, my heart thumps and pumps turmoil to all cells of my body. I feel so restless. I thought that by working late hours along the entire week would help, but it doesn't. Nothing works! Work does not even require much attention as once familiarized with the routine, autopilot mode can be activated. I once again, ignored that inner voice and had gone against it, fulfilling my own personal set of desires. How did that help? It only did in adding to the existing pile of rocks already stacked on my shoulders. La mort, I dream of thee. Do not speak, do not touch, do nothing but ignore. I constantly fail at it too. Only way right now to escape this island of mental torture is by moving to an island (literally), and of course, la mort.
