I don't know how I am supposed to get to work every morning when it's hard to get out of bed. It's hard to get dressed. It's hard to do my hair. It's hard to catch the bus. I'm not tired, I'm exhausted. Of everything. Depression is physically crippling. I don't know how long I can do this, how long I can play this game; pretending that I am okay. As embarrassing and disgusting as it is, my drive is for the money. I need it to pay back debts and buy alcohol to drown in, so I can pretend to myself for a while... so I can escape. I'm trying. I'm trying so fucking hard, but there's no gaps, no breaks, no time for me to just sit and grieve and let everything wash over me, so it all just hits me at the end of the day. It hurts. Everything hurts. And I know that when I crash and burn that it will be spectacular.