And yet that’s all I wanna do.
I wish I had a cool guy.
A laid back guy.
Who wants to sleep in on the weekends.
Waking up to his arms around me
His hard dick poking me
And after we fuck
We eat cereal in bed
And read the morning news to each other
Checking our social media accounts
Our legs intertwined under the covers
As I snuggle into the crook of his arm
Whenever I’m tired, drained physically and mentally from too much work I tend to break down in tears at the slightest provocation. They don’t have my favorite candy that I’ve been craving? Tears instantly. I wake up late for work, torrential downpour of tears. The worst part about it though is I then beat myself up for being weak. My inner voice tells me how pathetic I am and all this regret and anxiety attacks me.
And I know all I need is a good rest and probably something to eat but I just can’t. The voice beats me down and so I can’t sleep. The depression makes me not want to get out of bed. So I’m trapped. The only thing that makes it slightly bearable is smoking weed. It makes the anxiety lessen and dulls the voice of anxiety but it’s only a quick fix and doesn’t last long. Sooner or later it comes back. All I can do is keep running.