Day 2:

I managed to keep myself distracted a lot of the day with grocery shopping and cleaning and doing laundry and such. It's just hard to have the motivation to do anything. I don't really want to get out of bed. Today, Stacey made me.

Now Stacey's asleep, and I'm just sitting here and I can't figure out what to do with myself.

I'm just trying to figure out what the purpose of my life is. Not that I want to be be dead or anything, I just want to stop feeling dead inside. It doesn't matter what I do, it doesn't feel worthwhile. I'm pretty sure I could stay in my room for a month, and no one would really be affected. Nothing I do makes a difference.

Apparently this feeling is supposed to just go away at some point. I hate that answer. I don't want it to just go away, I want to fix it. I want to know that it's not true. I don't want to be ticking days off the calendar til I get to 90 to see if I have to book an appointment at the loony bin.