Why put in the effort?
It’s absurd how much mental energy it takes for me to do the bare minimum to survive each day. Just getting out of bed is a Herculean task that requires fighting multiple neuroses and chronic pain and my first feeling is dread at the work of simply living for another day. How am I supposed to handle all the greater responsibilities needed to get my life on track if I can barely handle existing? And all that effort to build a life and for what? To still hate myself and die just more exhausted? There’s no future where I get to be the person I want to be, there’s just darkness and pain and I don’t know why persisting is worth it. I’m too much of a coward to end it but I don’t know what I’m doing here. Besides being pathetic and whining that is.