desperate confessions

today i am not feeling crippling depression. it is a nice plot twist, a drink of freshwater after only being able to moisten your mouth with your own saliva. that could be too far. it is not life-saving, at least not for now. yesterday’s episode was more of a helplessness feeling, so many emails in my inbox that i forget how to send replies. i also forget to pee, and to eat food, and how to function as a person. my body melts into any soft surface available; couch, blanket, pillow, my cat’s back legs, anything. 

anything. desperation is my middle name when i am trying to be better, but failing miserably. i am also just miserable, sometimes, anxious slipping mess wearing a blanket around my legs because i just can’t part from it. this is clinical depression on drugs (literally), stumbling over my own feelings as i try to evade them before they hit me. i’m not sure. i could be swimming upstream, letting the water knock me off my feet and floating in whatever is left. i am doing my best, and it’s never quite enough