Immune to joy

I'm not getting any better.


This morning, the intense, desperate desire to die was a horrible complement to the empty hopelessness that I'm all too familiar with. For the first time in a while, I was completely unable to attend any of my classes today, and didn't have the energy to leave the house until nearly 6pm. I'm used to this sort of thing happening over the weekend, but having that sort of smothering, heavy distress come over me on a day when I have responsibilities to attend to is frightening. I already know that I struggle to take proper care of myself, not eating, drinking, socializing, or exercising nearly as much as I should, but having this kind of nonfunctionality during a time it doesn't typically happen makes me afraid that I'm slipping into being completely unable to care for myself in any regard. 

 I'm deeply afraid that I'm getting to the point of needing to be admitted. Favorite Person has asked if I've looked into inpatient treatment, and even though this is something that's been on my mind for the better part of the past year, her asking frightens me. She wouldn't have asked if she didn't think that inpatient treatment is what I need, and while she's right, it's a highly distressing prospect. The fact that I would need to get my unsupportive mother involved in the matter because I don't know how to navigate health insurance anything makes me feel worse about the entire thing. 

 I need help; I know that I need help, because at this point, I wouldn't be exaggerating in the slightest if I said that my life depends on it. It just feels like the help I need most is beyond my reach.




On top of everything else that plagues me, I fear that I'm losing the capability to feel happy. I spent time this evening in the Japanese garden on campus, and its pond was absolutely full of toads - I stopped counting after 60. There were just so many, trilling and chirping and swimming, diving, fighting for mates. It's the type of thing that would normally fill me with joy and with wonder, but aside from a few glimmers of detached interest, it filled my soul with sadness.

I sat beside the pond and cried, reminded of all the fun nighttime wanders I've had with Favorite Person and how I may never enjoy her company in that way again.



I can feel the eternal void calling to me and inviting me to rest, quiet but persistent, and I don't know how long I can last before embracing it. 

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