Haven’t put anything in the compost bin this week. Haven’t even stepped out the front door to check the mailbox, come to think. Just rotated between the bed, the cushion on the bedroom floor, slumping on the front couch, and the fridge. Not even cooking from the fridge, nuking from the freezer.

All the time being tired as hell and not sleeping well, alternating between feeling like death and like I was just swimming, thinking about how my life is a failure

And then I’m like “this is the depressive equivalent to the new ‘more physical’ up periods, dipshit” and oh! That makes sense, I’ll just give it another week.