2001-07-27 I'm sick of the heat. I'm sick of painting the kitchen cupboards. I don't want to do anything. It's like every bit of energy inside me had dried up. I'm feeling strange because there's nothing to expect. Nothing I'm supposed to do. Usually, this time of the year, I'm just waiting for the school to began. Something to do. The year I spent home without anything to do wasn't like this because I was so ill I couldn't even think straight. All I wanted was to sleep. Now I don't want to sleep. Now I want something to do, but I know that I'm not capable of doing it, whatever it is. I simply can't. I could continue in Uni but I know I can't do it. Not on the long run. A few days, maybe more. But not much more. I'd be in the same situation I was last autumn. It's unbelievable that a year has passed. It went so fast... first months in hospital I didn't even understand the concept of days and nights. I used to just sit on a chair till someone told me to go to bed. And I wouldn't wake up until it was late in the afternoon. I was tired all the time. I can't explain it to someone who hasn't been through it. I mean, I stopped being myself. I wasn't, at all. I didn't feel real. I didn't feel anything at all. I merely existed but most times it didn't feel like I was doing that. I'd just sit somewhere and suddenly it was evening and I hadn't done/thought a single thing that day. And the next day would be the same. It got better, slowly. I started noticing the people around me. I started eating without anyone telling me to. At some point I stopped crying all the time. I just finished painting the upper cupboards. They look rather horrible, but I don't care. At least they're yellow, not some mixture of white and brown paint. My hands are partly yellow too. Now I should probably stick for a couple of hours so that the smell would go away. |
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