Numb, numb, numb, numb, numb, nuuummmbb

It amazes me how little I care. I use to feel something, I use to feel everything. And now when I stop running I realize that everything in my life makes me miserable. I use to be able to find joy just by just being, now I'm used up. Empty, spent, hollow. How did I let myself get here? How is it possible that a person like me, who could feel everything, can now feel nothing. And yet death doesn't become me. I've become a stranger to myself. Like invasion of the body snatchers. And somehow the only thing or feeling that I can register is trapped. Trapped in a circumstance that I don't know how to get out of and am afraid to try to get out of. I just don't know how to proceed. When beginning to climb out of the hole you have dug yourself in, where do you first grasp. I just feel like I am grasping at straws. All I know is that the hole is dark and cold and unrelenting in its pursuit to take over my whole identity. Identity theft, apropos I suppose given the nature of my job. I'm just so tired. I just want to be me again. To feel like anything is possible and to actually believe it.

I look back at the person that I was and it makes me sad to think that I left her behind. I look at what I've become and I am ashamed. So ashamed that I have just totally and utterly given up. It is hard to believe that I ever had it together, now I am just like walking death. I've let myself go in everyway: mind, spirit, and body. And now I don't know if the damage that I have done can be undone. Like the yarn where you pull the wrong end thus forcing you to unravel the whole thing in order to roll it into a ball in order to keep it from tangling. But I'm all tangled up inside and don't know if all the knots can be undone.