Feels like, I’m cracking up, feels like my brain. Feels like my, why can’t I do this anymore? All this stuff I used to have, with drive and ability and concentration. My brain, it can’t do this anymore, my brain. Feels like, like I am choking, most frustrating feels like if I could escape this haze of some sort of imbalance I could ace this, I could knock one out, I could finish it off, I could play a perfect game. As it is, I still have time to do what I need to do. As it is, however, I am writing about 200 words a day, and haltingly, filled with nausea, blank and stupid and full of white noise. Nothing is emerging, nothing like concentration, nothing like productivity, and I don’t know how to get rid of this feeling.

 

Here is another night of sleep, every night I close my eyes with the vague hope that tomorrow I will wake refreshed, with a clear head, not overwhelmed. Fuck, fuck. I don’t know how to get my head out of this haze.

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