I don't know what's wrong with me. Tunnel vision. I try to look both ways, but I can't see what isn't right in front of me, and even then it's a small window. The walls are closing in, around my eyes, my ears, my lungs. It's like I can't breathe, but if I really couldn't breathe at least I'd have the privilege of no longer being here.

It's like waking up early Sunday morning to catch the sunrise, only to find out the sun is gone, gone, never coming back. He ran away with the moon, the dish and the spoon, and by now they're probably miles down the Milky Way, beyond even a speck of dust. But you can't blame them for leaving us, can you, because there comes a time when you just can't take care of everyone anymore--you've gotta take care of yourself.

At least, that was my reasoning, and we see how far that got me. 'I've gotta take care of myself, because you won't and neither will anyone else.' But we all know that's bullshit. I'm not taking care of myself. I can't make myself do anything. But I can't acknowledge that it's my fault, really, because some days it's just so hard to even think about getting out of bed, about letting my feet hit the floor, about seeing people, communicating, smiling, walking, moving, breathing, it's just too much. Once feet meet floor it's all over, it all becomes real. I can't hide in plain sight.

I just keep looking both ways, left-right-left again, but I can't see anything coming until it hits me. I can't feel the vibrations of the world under me, warning me to watch out. Protecting me, even though its sun left. So noble. But I've become so disconnected that I can't read the signals of my mother Earth anymore, can't hear her telling me to watch out, you didn't look hard enough, come on, sweetheart, pull yourself together before you get yourself killed. Lord knows I can't lose another one.

Disconnected. Disjoint, excommunicated, exiled, self-imposed. Maybe someone wants me around, but I sure don't. And even if they say it--even when they say it--I won't believe it. I've already convinced myself otherwise. I've walked that path, I've been there, I had my chance and I destroyed it, and now I'm left to clean up on my own, as it should be.

I don't know what I'm saying anymore. I don't know why you read all of this. I'm not okay, and I haven't been okay, and I don't know when I'll be okay again. Just don't worry about me. I've made too many promises I have to keep, so I'll be here for quite a while longer. I'll try not to burden you while I'm here.