Buying books lately literally healed me

 I had a rough past month which caused me to lose momentum. I was sick, wasn't eating and sleeping well, and as a result I lost a lot of weight. People would often tell me I look great. But really, I don't feel great. It's frustrating. But I'm learning to be kind to my body and my mind as it goes through changes. What else can you do in these situations anyway, but keep going.

This whole ordeal made me realize one important thing about myself. Living without expression killed something in me. I can't even describe it. I felt hollow. Perhaps if I could compare it to an emotion it'd be homesickness.Yes, that's the closest thing. It's not pain. It's not sadness. It's emptiness. Maybe even depression? I didn't care anymore about my body. I stopped "looking pretty" and "dressing up". I enjoyed that feeling of hunger as if it was my revolt. I enjoyed punishing myself because I hated myself. I lost my will to live because I felt like it wasn't my life anymore. Everyday I hoped to meet my death. And being conscious of that thought sunk me deeper. I spend days watching myself do things against my will. I internally ridicule myself every single day. I was getting less and less sleep and even when I was supposedly sleeping I was still mocking myself. I entertained myself by the entertainment that has become my life. It was seriously scary. 

I don't know how I managed to get out but if I were to take a guess, it'd be at the moment I realized why I reached that plane in the first place. No matter how hard life gets, I always rise above it. I would write about it, paint about it, read about it. This time however, I didn't even have the time to do that. Even if I did, I was too physically exhausted to even bother to pick up a book or a brush. I reached the conclusion that if I stay in this plane for even a little longer, I'd be miserable. Who knows where my thoughts would lead me. I can't let that happen. 

To summarize, living without expression is going to kill me, and the wheel of expression is time, which I didn't have. Perhaps all of this is temporary. The root word being "perhaps" is my deciding factor. Perhaps things will lie low. Perhaps I'll get used to things. Perhaps they won't. I'd rather not suffer through before I figure it out. I'm getting out. I'm de-loading the train. And it begins with quitting my job.