Whining and dining

No joy in my life, just all kinds of body issues. Terror induced pain, inflammation, knots, spasms, exhaustion, a hypochondriac smorgasbord, gloom, resentment and even more laissez faire than before. My house is worse than ever, mess and things and crates and stuff everywhere.

Months of terrible pains in my gut. Half a year of gum issues, months of sores in my mouth, back problems, god I don't even remember everything. Dread, naturally, hopelessness, fear, depression, panic.

I haven't done the dishes in their entirety even once this year. Just bits and pieces the rare - VERY RARE - moments I felt like it. I am filthy, can't be bothered to wear clean clothes or shower, it's a fucking chore and I don't do chores anymore.

There's no bright spots. There were like 2 or 3 short moments of relaxation, but as you know by now, this extremely tense body sees an opportunity in that to release more panic and dread and fear, so it's been a fucking dread-fest this year.

I have ordered this from the menu, so I can't complain but I am fucking allowed to complain.

The only pleasure in life right now is food, cats and series (currently re-watching Dexter). No walks, no painting, no gym, no nothing.

Nothing. But as I said, I specifically told myself and the Universe: as fast as possible, let it happen. So no breaks, no fun, no real relaxation, just shit floating upwards. Loads and loads and loads of shit. Soooo much shit. And no breaks, no breathers. All at once, continuously beating me into submission.

And every now and then I tell myself "I forgive myself for not surrendering" because that can't be forced. I try to remember not to do anything by force anymore. It's why the kitchen is worse than ever.

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Trying to get through this day, the last day of 2021. Panic attacks and overwhelm.