????

To Deal by Myself.

🔇

I wouldn't particularly say I'm inclined towards feelings. By that, I don't mean I'm literally numb and don't feel the floor beneath my feet. I mean I've been called cold and robotic, because I'm rather difficult to 'provoke' in any vulnerable way.

Like when I don't react to being called 'Suckonoki', 'fish-eyed', 'coconut candy man', whatever that means. Or getting pushed off of my own lunch table and trampled on like a trampoline.

But lately, I have been weighed down by an unclear fatigue. I still have tasks to do today, that I'd normally be done with by now.

Instead, I stare at these dumb blank sheets of papers and have them stare back at me in disappointment.

It's not that I haven't tried to force down answers on the page despite the mental push-back. It just felt too uncertain and unnatural that I ended up scrapping it all in the end.

And it's not like I've overburdened myself with some physical or mental activities earlier, that I'm having trouble doing any more.

In fact, I haven't started any today. Or yesterday. Or the day before.

I haven't started anything. My white ceramic watch shows me two hours have passed.

I'm not panicking.

I'll just have to find out how to clear my mind of any junk, get the homework done, then go back to the usual.

I rarely have to do something as such, as it feels rather unnecessary. I can just ignore what my brain is yelling on about, it relatively takes no effort.

But sometimes it's helpful not to think of myself as a machine, as much as I'd like to be one.

First of all, I need to figure out the source of the fatigue. By writing down what's on my mind, as that's where troubles manifest themselves.

I roll out of my seat, pick up my journal, and head to a room that's more suited to my comfort.

I flop onto the couch. The TV facing my way shows a faint reflection of me tapping a pencil against the blank page.

The light of the sun reflects on my table, flashing up the room like there's a portal to the pearly gates about to open, but it closes, by a cloud moving in the way.

I adjust the curtains a little bit, I'm not ready to go.

Okay. Just express my thoughts.

Shouldn't be too difficult.

...

"I am tired."

I look blankly at the single sentence.

My hand moves and the pencil proceeds.

"My day felt lacking,
even empty."

"Everytime, I've told myself to get used to it. Right now, even, shouldn't I just get used to it?"

After one thought is added, the others begin to follow after.

"I can't predict what's on the minds of people around me. But, I feel as though I'm being more avoided, as of lately."

I begin to feel a mental stagger-back. But I force my hand down.

"No, not avoided. I barely get acknowledged to be avoided. I feel-"

I grit my teeth.

"-unwanted."

Stop. Stop.