You know when you're hungry but can't be bothered to eat, so you just let yourself get sick? That's how I feel right now.
I haven't been this deep in the pit in a while; hell, I don't think that I've been in this part of the pit, ever. It's a very barren place, and I'm all alone in it. I'm alone in everyday situations, because I feel alienated from everyday people, which is fine and all, but there comes a point when you alienate yourself from your friends, and that's when things get pretty grungy.
At best, I am useful to others. I go to work, I fulfill customer's needs, I don't dick around, I don't get any comebacks that I screw up... but I don't get any comebacks that I do well either. I strive to express myself, providing a fairly well thought-out podcast every week, for which I strive to be creative and pull some interesting sounds and color... for which I get no comebacks. No feed-backs as to how good or bad, or just okay, nothing. Just fucking nothing.
I have struggled to write, I have struggled to make myself write for months, years, but I keep getting smothered by the voice that says "why bother?" After all, why should anybody give a damn... I try to be a caring man, providing to the needs of my loved ones, but I don't seem to provide what is wanted.
I feel a poison coursing through my veins, one that could be easy to look for a physical cause, maybe some sort of viral illness, but one that I know is more a poison of the spirit. I have kept that poison in check for a long time, first with laughter, then with anger, but anger doesn't suffice anymore. the poison now feeds on the anger, and all I feel is tired, so fucking tired.
I feel like I should reach out to friends, but I feel like I'd impose on them, who have their own problems, and after all, shouldn't I be able to deal with this myself? I have taken the poison pill of prideful self-sufficiency to it's logical conclusion. I should be angry at myself for this sort of foolishness, but I've become too tired, too apathetic, too hungry to be bothered anymore.
What now? I ask this question, spoken into the void and the darkness. I do not really expect an answer.