Can’t fucking do it.

ugh.

For weeks now, I’ve had shit to do.  And well really it’s not been done, I haven’t even scratched the surface of  what needs to be done.  And I just don’t give a fuck.  I can’t give a fuck.  I’m sat here in my room.  I can’t see my floor in some places.  Theres a nice pile of washing up and mouldy food I haven’t attended too in a while.  In fact, it’s begun a game of hiding the dirtiest plate in the stack.

There are now 3 dead house plants (for some reasons I always buy plants and convince myself I can keep them alive….only to murder them) and a bunch of dead succulents.  Yes, I’ve killed succulents.  Neglected myself and life that even the hardiest of survivors cant compete in my world.

I’ve not thoroughly and properly cleaned out my poor rabbits in a month, I’ve obviously emptied their litter trays but thats about the extent of the care I can give them right now.  It’s devastating and it smells.  For me and them.  I’m not sure where any of my clothes are, except they’re all dirty and spread everywhere, not been put away and so its almost as if they are my floor, probably why I can never find anything.  I’ve worn the same pants for 3 days now because I can’t find clean ones.

The worst part about all of this is, I hate it.  I know I can’t function like is.  I don’t like to function (not that I am functioning) like is.  I know it’s not healthy or good.  It makes me feel worse and as time goes on and nothing gets done it becomes just another thing thats wrong with me and an unmountable task that I’m not going to achieve!

I’m tired, I’m unenergised.  Theres no motivation.  The worst part is I have to go into work tomorrow.  If I don’t get my shit done today.  I won’t be able to get done again until next week.  But by then I will have added to everything.  And then work will come around again.

I really don’t understand how people keep on top of things.  I am a well organised and nerdy person when it comes to tidying and putting things in their place. I like them to have a place and return to it when finished. Only all my things don’t have a place.  I don’t even have a place.  And so if I don’t have a place,  this place isn’t really my place, then why should I bother putting other things in their place.   And, if I go ahead and get started, I’ll exhaust myself by the end of the day and may not make it to work tomorrow.

I’m slowly picking away at myself.  I’m doing far too much than I can handle.  I forget I am ill and struggle.  Forget I am different and can’t always cope in the traditional way.  And so I’ve been gun hoeing recently in my recovery (I’ve loved it, and it does lift my mood) but I’ve been unable to balance that with my self care.  In fact, I’m not even sure I can remember what self care means to me right now, except, just don’t hurt yourself.

I just can’t do anything.

UDSF.

 

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