The Dream

I spend the last two days, almost entirely, in bed. I had a headache on day one but the truth is it wasn't crippling. I faked it for the remaining of the two days because I was so depressed I couldn't get up. I didn't want to get up. What for? I understand perfectly how empty life is without a job, partner, or any kind of purpose, yet I can't bring myself to build any kind of life. The truth is I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO FAITH IN MYSELF. 

Everything I have ever build fell apart. And I mean, I was literally back at point zero. What is point zero, you ask?  I would define it as totally and ultimate hell, where one doesn't have any friends, doesn't have a place to go everyday and feel some kind of fulfillment (aka school, job), money is super tight (therefore any kind of pleasure is extremely limited), and worse of all: abundant feeling of hopelessness. I have been there more than once before and I wanna look on the positive side and appreciated that I GOT OUT, only to see it fall apart again.

Now you see why I want to stay in bed all day? In bed I'm safe and protected. I dream of amazing place and adventures.

In my dreams I'm SOMEONE.

In my dreams I deliver babies, jump of the buildings, prevent WWIII, solve problems and not sit in front of the TV as I do so often in real life. Knowing that no one has achieved anything by avoiding life and sleeping day after day, night after night, I STILL  can't get out of bed. I'm happy when I manage to do some cleaning or cook something, as I did today.

I think I really need a serious cocktail of antidepressants, anti anxiety, anti everything negative because this isn't life. I might as well be dead.