I don’t know what to do. Something feels off. Maybe all my explanations are stupid. Maybe it’s not the brain cravings for productivity like I think. Maybe I’m just lonely or something. Or maybe I never will be able to explain it.
I keep running away. I need some escape, always. Writing, reading, computer time. I can’t just confront my woes. Kratom, the biggest escape of my life. … I don’t know. It’s hard. I’m so used to running away that my soul doesn’t know what it’s like to live honestly any more. I’m stuck.
And, I don’t know what to say, but this sentence seemed like it should start with “and”. “And, I don’t see it getting better any time soon” is what I’m supposed to say, but, maybe it will? I don’t know. I feel worse just for contemplating recovery. This dynamic disequilibrium of variables and actions codependent on one another makes for a difficult juggling match.
That’s all I’ll say for now. Regular life is difficult.