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I had this odd moment on a phone call today with dear friends of mine overseas. It lasted for maybe a few seconds, but it changed the rest of my day and my thoughts about tomorrow. I was catching them up on the past couple months of my life when suddenly I knew that nothing I said, nor anything they said, would make any kind of difference. I depend so much on other people for comfort and support; I lean so heavily on people to make me make it through. And suddenly, it seemed as though it was hollow. Words and sentiments that while nice, wouldn’t actually change a damn thing. In those few seconds I felt how absolutely alone I am.

Maybe it was grief, specific to these people, for how distance has necessarily altered our friendships. But I have this strange desire now to push at everyone. I have this fantasy now of turning ever more inward, devolving into madness, and locking out the world. And, I like it.

I have been quiet the rest of the day. I have done some, but not all of my chores. I got more work done on a project I had in mine than I’d expected. I had a few episodes of violent shaking. I screamed once, standing in my kitchen. My eyes have watered more than once, but I haven’t actually shed any tears yet. I was standing on my back patio, staring up at the stars, and I thought, I don’t know for sure whether or not I want to live. I’m willing to try it for now. But I don’t particularly care for life. I don’t like it.

I think I am shutting down. Going numb.

I thought earlier that I felt as though I lost some sacred piece of myself today. I can’t explain it. It’s just what it feels like. As though something in me has died.

I wonder who it is that I am supposed to be. I wonder what I’m supposed to do.

I hope it’s worth surviving for.