Numb

I feel numb. Numbed and exhausted. I feel myself slipping.

Yesterday I didn't write. I didn't have the energy to write. I didn't have the interest. I felt numb.

I don't like this. I don't like this at all.

This is an aspect of my illness that is painful for me. The aching, the numbness, the apathy. I want to care, to have passion. I want to have joy, and happiness. I fight against the dulling, numbing symptoms. But even my fighting instinct is dulled.

I think this is one of the most difficult things to fight against. Normally, I rage against my symptoms, fighting and struggling to maintain control. In these moments, though, of apathy, my fight seems futile, my senses are dulled, my world is heavy and covered in dense fog.

This isn't the dark, feel, crushing depression that leaves me fearful and terrified. This is numbness, apathy. This is a lack of fear, of interest, of joy. I have no dread, no panic.

I want to feel normal again. I want to have sadness and joy and fear and elation. I want to feel. This numbness is heavy and hazy. I can't see through it. I can't feel.

I see my therapist this afternoon. I am hoping that returning to therapy helps me process these symptoms better. Helps me cope better. I want to get through this and be on the other side. I am so tired of this, it is exhausting to struggle against it.