Exhausted

I don't want to live anymore.  Yet, I am not suicidal.  I don't have the drive or balls to actually kill myself, but if a speeding car was hurtling towards me as I crossed a road, I'm not sure I would get out of the way. 

Nothing makes sense anymore.  I lost my mom, I was laid off from my job.  I'm mad, hurt, bitter, hopeless and tired.  I am not strong enough to be in the lives of anyone because I'm so down.  Intellectually I know I should show compassion to my family and reach out to be a better brother and son and uncle but I can't reach past the dark well that I'm trapped in.  I know I should be aggressively searching for a job but I can't move.  I can't breathe.  I can barely shower every few days.  I don't shave anymore.  Sometimes I remember I brush my teeth, but not for days at a time. 

Anxiety and despair has me crippled up in a tight knot.  I can't focus. If I'm reading a book, I switch to playing a game on my tablet, and then I switch to watching TV, and then on to reading the news.  And then back again.  I know how the Tasmanian Devil must have felt. 

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