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Chapter 11.5--In A Few Years, Look Back And Smile

Logan

I thought that if I slept with April the night before the game I could at least get a good night's rest. But the moment I wake up, I realize sleep isn't my issue. I just don't feel like getting out of bed. April has to leave shortly after she wakes up because she has errands to run. Once she's gone, I'm left alone in my apartment with my dog and cat. And honestly, I don't want to do anything.

My energy is totally drained and it's not even the afternoon yet. I try to figure out ways to get motivated for the game tonight. I pick out my clothes, I eat a good breakfast, go on a walk, then I sit down to watch my favorite movie. But the closer it gets to game time, the more I feel myself melting into the sofa cushions of my couch.

Thank God I have a dog. Without Sur, I can easily stay at home all day long. But I'm glad he's one of the reasons I get out of the house. Even if it is for a short walk.

Getting up to physically do things is exhausting. It's not because my body is tired it's just because my motivation is non-existent. I don't want to socialize. I don't want to be around people. I don't want to do anything. Literally. I can sit in one spot for hours without watching TV or even listening to music. This isn't your average, "I want to chill." No...this is different because I can't do it. I don't want to do anything and even if I do I can't.

Do you know what it's like to force yourself out of bed? Not in the, "Oh I love sleep" way. I mean...actually thinking to yourself, "If you don't get out of bed now you're never going to for the rest of the day. Do you really want to waste a day away sulking?"

And that's the weird thing. Because even though I don't want to get out of bed I know that if I stay by the end of the day I'm going to be having my usual dark thoughts. It's a stupid never-ending cycle that honestly doesn't make sense. But when has depression ever made sense?

The worst part is, I was really looking forward to today. I've been waiting for this soccer game ever since Harper and I hung out at the park. But of course, today my motivation to participate and socialize is suddenly shot. I wish I knew a secret to boost my motivation but there isn't. It's just something I'm going to have to get around. It's like driving home only to realize the street you usually take is closed. You end up having to take this long and exhausting detour.

I do stay home all day. I slowly trudge around my apartment. Not hungry and not caring. When I check the time, I let out a loud groan. The game is going to start soon. I should get ready. I walk towards my closet and stare at it for what feels like forever. I don't mean to move so slowly but my body doesn't have the energy to step up my pace.

Today is not a good day, I think to myself. With that single thought, I pull out my joggers and sweatshirt. Jeans are a no-go when it's not a good day.

The speed at which I'm functioning is pathetic. It's like subconsciously being in slow motion. I don't bother rushing because I'm honestly trying to put off the fact that I have to get out of the house. I get dressed and look in the mirror.

Wow...I stare at myself lazily. I look like shit.

I'd usually care more. But not now. Every fiber in my body is aching for me to just do nothing. My mind stops caring about everything around me. For a split second I even think, So what if I don't go? The Weirdos can handle everything.

But then I remember Harper and how excited she is for this game. I take a deep breath and try to eat some food. I make a sandwich but only take a few bites. The rest I throw to Sur. For a moment, I think of bringing him along to the game. But I'm not feeling it. I'm not feeling anything.

I check the time again and groan. "Fuck," I say outload. I'm late. I was supposed to be at the fields about forty minutes ago. Time passed by a lot quicker than I thought it would.