I’m always so fucking cold.
I’m always freezing- chilled to the bone. The kind of cold that feels like it will never go away. That’s the part that gets to me, more than anything else. More than the fatigue, the dizziness, my constant half-awake state of being. I don’t even feel hunger anymore. More than anything else- I can’t stand being so fucking cold.
I do it because I’m a coward. I do it because I detest myself too much to let myself blissfully escape all in one fell swoop.
Day after day, clutching my diet coke, my black coffee, my zero-calorie energy drink in shaking hands. Day after day, drowning in thick wool sweaters, tucking thinning hair behind my ears. Day after day, fighting the dizziness when I move too quickly, fighting the urge to close my eyes.
I do it to myself because feeling numb is better than feeling pain. I do it to myself because it’s the only thing I can do, the only thing I can control. I do it to myself because it’s slowly killing me, and dying is the only good I can hope for.