Hopeless

I feel hopeless, ya'll.

Usually when I feel like this, there's a specific set of measures I can take to snap out of it.

Music helps. Coffee helps. Eating doesn't help but I overindulge anyway. Today it was Bag of Bones Cheetos. Seriously, I understand how people weigh three and four hundred pounds. If I didn't have genetics on my side, I might be the same way. I'm not hungry AT ALL. But I keep eating.

Going outside. Walking or even just sitting in the sun helps. But if I can't bring myself to do any of those things then I am doomed to hibernate in my house and wallow in self-pity. And one day of that isn't the end of the world, right?

Two days ago I was in Wal-Mart by myself, buying some water bottles and I had a moment. A moment when my surroundings seemed to suffocate me. I questioned the meaning of life when I realized that although I was immersed in the throng of people, I was completely alone. I wanted to drop to my knees right then and there. I didn't. That's not what adults do, no matter how shitty and overwhelmed and HOPELESS they feel.

Today, I know I'm in trouble because all I want to do is curl up in a ball and watch movies and sleep. And even Twenty-One Pilots doesn't fix me. I'm fucked. But tomorrow is a new day. I'll do my best to reset.

J. L. Dodd