My mind is racing.

I don't know if I'm not thinking about anything or everything all at once.

My body, somehow, feels like it no longer exists as one entity; like my conscious mind and subconscious are no longer one.

I just came into my room like I was running from someone, but I think that someone is myself.

I threw my bags on the floor and here I lay, in the center of my room, on the ground.

Looking up at the ceiling, everything is dormant. No fans going, no music playing, nothing to fill the silence that haunts me.

The lack of company.

The feeling that no one will ever be there for you but you.

This isn't true, of course.

Your life is filled with friends, family, even a few lovers; you know you'll never actually be alone, you just feel like it.

Then why does it feel like everything is missing?

There are people who actually are missing everything.

I lay here, with a family and two homes in two different states, needing nothing, but wanting everything my life lacks.

I feel as though this is a condition of living in our society.

It could be a condition of just being an artist;

Being emotionally unstable must be a requirement.

No one would choose this life.

Depression, sadness, crippling anxiety; no one asks for this.

So when you tell me to “Suck it up, other people have bigger problems.”

Believe me, I know

And I'm trying.