Made my bed sigh

Stolen from http://kittehkats.tumblr.com/post/102924383476/windypoplarsroom-vintage-french-postcard-1913

Trigger warning… I made my bed this morning (it is still, just morning)… Which is an incredibly optimistic thing to do considering my mindset. At the moment I’d just like to cease to exist.

That’s not suicide by the way. I’m too depressed to suicide. It would take too much effort and forethought. Spontaneous combustion I could probably do, although it sounds painful.

It’s depressing to be so depressed that suicide is too much effort. Maybe I’m just lazy?

I have the flu. Nothing is particularly good on a normal day, but the flu just makes it all so much worse. Things that wouldn’t normally phase you, take you down whimpering.

Grief is like water

It steals bits of your life, leaving you like debris on an unknown beach. Washed over and tumbled, pale and bleached.

It joins with all the other grief in a deep well and drowns you again. Nothing can ever be the same when you surface. If you surface.

Sometimes life is just brief moments of glistening happiness between sticky webs of grief....