This is a diary entry. This is not required reading.

Why is it that when you're anxious, it often seems impossible to act even when you're certain that action is better than doing nothing? Why is it so hard to make yourself do something even when you know that avoidance will only increase your anxiety?

Why don't I make more sense?

Argh.

It probably would have helped if I'd gotten more than 5 hours of sleep last night. Maybe.

Right then, that's enough whining before lunch. I need lunch. Then I need to get myself to do something relevant rather than one of the many irrelevant things that seem so appealing today.

(no subject)

Today, I did what I could. Well, I did what I could convince myself to do, which turned out to be closer to all I could do in this heat than I'd thought it would be.

So, today I did what I could. It wasn't enough. I have to find ways to make it enough.

I get so tired. All I want--I begin a sentence with "All I want" and then the cosmos fragments as the sentence ends a million ways. All I want right now is a chance to sleep. All I want is to be awake. All I want is a good life. All I want is a peaceful death. All I want is a healthy body. All I want is a brilliant mind. All I want is a home of my own, true love, a cruise around the world, an endless supply of chocolate. Any sentence beginning with "All I want" is a lie: I want it all. So even though our circumstances differ, I'm pretty much like the rest of you malcontents in the end.