Monday, the beginning of the week. Hurray! Another weekend completely wasted. More time spent in bed, hiding from the world outside. I think the hole weekend was spent in a quasi-coma, thanks to my doctor and the Xanex he prescribed. Oddly, the more time I spend in this reclusive state, the more difficulty I have communicating with anyone. Actually, that makes sense now, kind-of. Though it’s still sad when online journals, in addition to hand-written versions, are the closest thing to actually getting it off your chest, so to speak.
I keep wishing that, for once, everything will just work itself out. Wishes are just fantasies that burn