White Walls And Party Invites

August 11th, I have begun to really worry for myself. I can't leave bed, but differently, I don't want to be in it, I do not want to be anywhere. There is not only no one worth seeing, but no life worth living. I think I've come to terms with getting trapped here like I was so concerned about, saw inescapable. My motivation is very much in a catch twenty two, and I don't even want to take care of myself any more. Nowhere to go, spending money, nowhere to stay, no real job, no one to look after me, someone's got to. My life kind of turned into a waste, and I know this is nearly entirely based of off my outlook on it. It's August, and I just feel really terrible, the difference is that it is not over another person this time. The letdowns and disappointments don't help or anything, but I just don't know what to do, don't know what I can. I do not have the energy any longer for what this treading water is requiring. I feel very badly, lying here wondering if there is even a remedy. Wondering if I care for my life enough to attempt to better it whatsoever, when all I really want is to disappear. Things are not good right now, things were not great then, but I watch everything crumble and just get worse and worse, and it suggests at a very troubling future. Everything dependable isn't, everything good is faded, and right now this is as good as it gets, and I can't even bear that. I need a plan, I need a rescue, I need something big and different, and I don't even have it in me to live this small, empty day. I detest myself so much now, I wouldn't even wish to be loved. It is the baddest it's ever been, because I welcomed it in this time. And I am at this house, can't be left alone, and if the universe wants me around, I need something more than this, more than this me.
I am worse with sleep, I am so much worse off with nothing to blame, and there's nothing.