It’s exhausting.

The way I have to get up every day and carry on with life. The simple act of going through the motions, and sometimes I can’t even do that.

Each emotion overwhelming and each action draining.

No, it’s not always hard. Some days are really good. So good in fact that you forget there ever were bad days.

But some days you lay down at lunch time to gather yourself for the second half of the day, and it takes everything you have to roll yourself out of bed to keep going.

All you can do is walk through the day with a bitch face and pray no one tries to talk to you. You don’t want to be rude but you sure as hell aren’t in the mood to chat.

And yet the world doesn’t stop for you.

I suppose it never will.