I hate how life can feel so down. I hate it when getting up in the morning feels like a chore. I hate bursting into tears for no rhyme or reason. I hate feeling like I have to explode, but when I get to the exploding point, I just don't care anymore. Lately it feels like a chore to care. I just don't want to. Giving up seems like such a relief. I hate feeling like I'm drowning in my own sorrows, and I am tired of trying to swim to the surface.
But what I hate the most is knowing that, somewhere in this ocean of sorrows and fatigue, is a safe boat with the real me on it, and I can't find it.
