Some days, baby steps are all that I can take.
Even writing is difficult.
Today, I feel pretty hopeless. Helpless. Lifeless.
I don’t want to be alone, but I don’t particularly want to be around people either.

Life is a funny old thing. Death too.
Sometimes I wonder if I am already dead?
I feel like that sometimes.
Is it possible that something has died inside me, so that I am unable to really live any more?
And if I am dead, can I still love?
Can I still love, if I cannot love myself?