Autumn is creeping in and that should be making me ecstatic. I should be coveting all forms of soft black lace, oogling the black boots cropping up in shoe stores, and doing some early scouting of Halloween merch. But I'm not.
I feel like depression has such a hold on me these days that it's hard to care about anything like that anymore. When I wake up in the morning, my only concern with the nearing fall weather is that it's cold and I'm uncomfortable. So I dig for a cozy pair of sweats and the warmest shirt I have.
I don't feel pretty. I don't feel like me. And I don't feel like trying.
Certainly, I used to be better than this. But when my life has fallen apart so completely that I can't see any way of putting it back together, I don't have the energy to even care about how limp my natural toned hair is or where my velvet skirt is. I've even given up on waiting for the phone call I was supposed to get about a job offer today....because I don't think it's coming.
I don't read anymore. I used to go through a book a week, at least. I used to watch ghost hunting shows like a loon. I used to have vampire movie marathons. I used to write constantly and I always had new ideas for novels or short stories.
These days, I just feel drained. And I can't be myself like that.
I don't know what to do anymore.